Aug. IS, 1901. 



AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL, 



521 



ground, and is liable to be left unnoticed. Then, of courst', 

 the queenless bees go home, either before or after hiving. 

 Sometimes the ball is formed after hiving, or deposited with 

 the rest of the bees at the door of the hive, and carelessly left 

 there when they run in. In these cases also the bees go back 

 to the old hive— never to the woods, I think. While we are on 

 the subject of swarming let me •' swat " another old and 

 popular fallacy — the idea that bees load up with honey pre- 

 paratory to starling out. They go just as they happen to be, 

 I am pretty well convinced. A swarm imprisoned will some- 

 times <|uickly begin to die of starvation. On the other hand, 

 after three days and two nights of imprisonment, they will 

 often be found with a good piece of comb built and honey in 

 it. This imprisonment trick is a hobby of mine, and thus I 

 know. 



WINTERING OF DIFFERENT STRAINS OF BEES. 



I suspect it is easy to be mistaken when we say that one 

 kind of bees winters better than another. In a mild climate, 

 however, which may happen nevertheless to be a climate in 

 which staying quietly indoors is much more profitable than 

 hustling around, it is reasonable to expect that blacks might 

 winter better than Italians. But, Mr. Whitcomb, mightn't a 

 poor and lazy strain of Italians idle and prosper just as well 

 ac. blacks could do ? Might not prosper as well next .Tunc, 

 eh ? Then I guess you're pretty much altogether right. 

 Your fourth point is hardly important enough to rank with 

 such important things as the first three points comprise. 

 Page 428. 



^.^it.^:l>^.JiLj!Cj!t.J^.^.^. 



^ ^ The Home Circle. 



Conducted by Prof. ft. J. Cook, Glaremont, Calif. 



STRAWS POINT THE WIND. 



We all court or desire popularity. Few of us get it in as 

 generous proportions as we would desire. We all have among 

 our friends those whom we not only love and admire, but who 

 are general favorites. Everybody is quick to take them up, 

 and even more slow to let them slide out of their social circle. 

 I have often thought, and as frequently said, that no fortune 

 could be justly said to out-rank that of having for our life's 

 work that which we enjoyed most to do. It is almost as benef- 

 icent and helpful to be attended in our life-journey by those 

 who rwimire, respect and love us, and who are ready to trust 

 us to the full, for they know us, and the knowledge has begot- 

 ten faith. I know of no single thing that gives such full 

 satisfaction as the sure thought that those who know us best 

 believe in us. There is no show of wavering in their faith. 



We all have known public men whose presence among 

 their neighbors and friends is sure to bring loud acclaim. 

 They are ever greeted by their constituents with loud and 

 heartfelt cheers. All this is most grateful to him who is so 

 happy as to receive it, and must be a most potent influence, 

 not only in making the life more pleasurable but also in caus- 

 ing it to yield richer and more abundant fruit. 



So great a factor in the happiness and success of our 

 lives is well-earned popularity, that we are all wise to study 

 the ways and lives of our most esteemed friends, that we may, 

 if possible, discover what attracts and wins, and then may 

 strive with unflagging effort to crown our own lives with like 

 virtues. Camp-life furnishes most excellent opportunity for 

 such study. The " straws which point the wind" are ever in 

 evidence. 



We are in camp. Many other campers are near neigh- 

 bors. The meals are to be provided ; the wood chopped ; the 

 dishes washed ; the camp to be kept neat and tidy : not only 

 our friends but others who have not such evident claim on us 

 are, or ought to be, entertained. The books brought to camp 

 are very entertaining ; the many magazines abound with fas- 

 cinating recitals or stories ; special friends are so attractive ; 

 how much there is to make selfishness assertive, how many 

 straws will show the trend of character. Here is where the 

 one who has grown into a life of thoughtfulness for others 

 shines forth as the noonday sun. Such a one takes no heed to 

 tind the exact bounds of his allotted tasks, but is ever reach- 

 ing out with helpful hand to lessen the burdens of every otlier 

 one. Ill' is (luick to lay asid<' the entrancing story to h.'lp 

 some other in a wearying task, or to entertain some older per- 

 son, or. possibly, some visitor who has come to the camp fnr a 

 recreation which the home camp has failed to furnish. 



Some one in camp has been olT on a long tramp, climbing 

 the ever-alluring mountains, or seeking some pool where the 

 trout are more quick to bite. He returns weary, and, oh '. so 

 hungry. Yet his it is to see that the meal is prepared, or the 

 wood chopped, or the dishes washed. The dragging step and 

 tell-tale pallor are quickly noted, and he finds his work is 

 snatched from his tired hands, by those more than eager and 

 willing to do it for him. This straw of thoughtful unselfish- 

 ness is a very jumbo, and tells a whole chapter of character 

 trend, which ever charms, wins, and sweetens. If one ever 

 gets just " dead tired " and "dead gone " with hunger, it is 

 on the long tramps along the mountain streams of the deep, 

 wooded canyons, or climbing the steep mountains, where 

 lured on by beauty and awful grandeur the tramp carries us 

 often away beyond our strength, and yet we must retrace our 

 whole rugged journey before either rest or food — possibly 

 before water — can bring the longed-for refreshment. 



Here is where the Mark Tapleys shine out. 



Here is another colossal straw. Some so thoroughly hold 

 themselves in fullest control, that they " burn all their own 

 smoke." Tired, used up, every bone and joint crying out 

 with the hard ache of sorest exhaustion, yet we hear not a 

 word of murmur ; indeed, they have still cheer and sunshine 

 for others who seemingly are more weary than are they. 

 Surely, these are heroes that see no battle-field, and whose 

 praises are all unsung on History's page. Yet camp- life 

 shows their status. " Straws point the wind." 



"OLD BALDY" (San Antonia Mountain). 



Where is it ? and what ? It is one of the three highest 

 peaks of the Southern California mountains. It reaches up 

 10,000 feet, and lies 23 miles north from Claremont. It is 

 le' miles west of our camp, which is something over 3,00O 

 feet above the sea-level. Seven of us scaled it on Monday 

 last, three of whom were ladies. Horses or mules, and one 

 pack-mule, carried us and our belongings 12 of the 16 miles. 

 Then we must walk and carry our food and blankets, for we 

 must sleep that night on the very crown of the lofty summit. 

 What a climb— 4000 feet; or lOOO feet to the mile ! Two 

 and one-half miles more on the very ridge-pole of a great 

 roof-like mass of granite— a mere narrow path often hardly 

 a foot wide, and steeper on each side than steepest roofs ; 

 often almost perpendicular on one side, reaching down more 

 than 1000 feet— more than one-fifth of a mile. Often this 

 path stretched upward as fast as onward, and yet our party 

 flinched not, but all slept that night on the very crest of this 

 grand mountain peak. Only one took to hands and knees, and 

 she but once. But more than one wondered if they could do 

 it. And almost all drew long breaths as the most trying 

 points were scaled. So rare was the air that ever and anon 

 all would pause to draw a half dozen quick breaths in rapid 

 succession, before the onward march could be resumed. 



It was a tremendous climb but the outcome warranted the 

 labor, the fatigue, the tremor of fright, for the outlook from 

 the crest, as also the sunrise, were entirely indescribable. If 

 one ever seems right in Clod's very presence it is while on some 

 such towering peak as " Old Baldy." As I gazed entranced at 

 the grand, varied, far-reaching landscape, I uttered the truth 

 that I would rather have given 825 than to have had my 

 daughter miss the experiences. She made the trip with easy, 

 lightsome steps, and hardly knew her weakness till the race 

 was run. Our beds were on the small broken rocks that mark 

 the bald summit ; with a good camp-fire and our blankets we 

 kept the chill away, and slept some. 



At 5 a. m. we enjoyed the transcendent sunrise, which 

 alone paid for the journey. We then proceeded at once to 

 make the homeward march. We reached camp at 12:30. 

 Oh, we were so tired ! All our party kept their cheer, their 

 smiles, and their tempers. I guaged all by my own tired 

 muscles, and was proud that I had such friends and comrades. 

 Those light of weight, and used to labor, endured it well ; 

 those great with avoirdupois, and unused to such exercise, 

 almost fainted on the home stretch. Yet we all have even 

 now lost sight of the hard effort and wearisome climb, and 

 now think only of the beauty and grandeur. 



We seemed, and will ever seem, nearer to God, for we 

 were a night and a day in the very glory of his most magnifi- 

 cent handiwork. 



Queenie Jeanette is the title of a pretty song- in sheet 

 music size, written by J. C. Wallenmeyer, a musical bee- 

 keeper. The regular price is 40 cents, but to close out the 

 copies we have left, we will mail them at 20 cents each, as 

 long as they last. 



