1895 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



187 



this boat-ride after dark that I want to speak 

 about especially. 



The minute we touched the water, friend Det- 

 wiler shouted to me to see the phosphorescence. 

 I had heard of such a thing belor . but I confess 

 I had never even faintly realizi d what it was to 

 see a boat literally plowing through liquid fire, 

 throwing up sprays and rolling tiny red-hot 

 (apparently) globules over the water at every 

 splash. When he took the oars it was really a 

 splendid display of fire-works. I dipped my 

 hand down in the water and tossed it about. 

 We soon discovered that the display was much 

 more vivid at some points than others. Friend 

 Detwiler said he thought this was because 

 some portions of the water were warmer than 

 others. When we stepped from the boat to the 

 shore I went to examining the phenomenon 

 along the sandy beach, and exclaimed, "Why. 

 look here! this phosphorescence is clear out of 

 I he water, and sparkling away up on the 

 gravel." 



He came to my side, but soon began to laugh. 

 "Why, Mr. Root, you are so excited that you 

 are walking right down into the sctlt water. 

 and imagining you are on dry land."" 



Thus ended a very busy Sabbath day. and to 

 myself, at least, a very happy one. Our readers 

 will find my talk to the Sunday-school embod- 

 ied, with a little alteration, in a Home Paper 

 for this issue. 



Monday morning we moved on to Hawks 

 Park. Perhaps I should remark that I took a 

 hasty ride on my wheel Saturday night down 

 the beach from New Smyrna to Hawks Park, 

 to let the bee-friends know I was in the neigh- 

 borhood. While there I invited them to come 

 up to New Smyrna to church; and this, per- 

 haps, somewhat accounf^d for a part of the 

 audience on Sunday. While the greater part 

 of Florida can not be called the best ground for 

 wheeling. I want to say there is nothing in the 

 world, at least so far as I have found, any finer 

 than the shell roads along the river in New 

 Smyrna. I rather prefer it to the ocean beach, 

 because it is just enough up and down, with 

 nice little curves to vary the monotony. I had 

 to hurry up some on account of the coming 

 darkness on that Saturday night: and swing- 

 ing around the curves and going up and down 

 on that shell road with its wonderful tropical 

 scenery and strange sights on every hand was 

 one of the most inspiring and enjoyable rides I 

 ever made anywhere. I had another one over 

 the same route Monday morning, in going to 

 Mr. W. S. Hart's. Tn passing friend Hart's 

 orange-grove from the road, you get only a 

 glimpse of some sort of building hack through 

 the thick growth of forest. But when you 

 open the gate and go inside, there seems to be 

 a pretty good building all unoccupied. A little 

 beyond are the orange-groves. Each grove 

 comprises, say. from one to two acres, and 

 around each is a belt of unbroken forest to 

 shield it from the frosts and cold winds. Each 

 tree is a model of symmetry and vigorous 

 growth, and nowhere in Florida have we seen 

 oranges of such size and symmetrical shape, 

 together with perfect color, as we found here. 

 The spcret of it is perfect cultivation of the 

 soil, liberal use of commercial fertilizers such 

 as are fotind to be best, with thorough spraying 

 to get rid of rust and scab, or anything that 

 might mar the beauty of the fruit. Friend 

 Hart has for years bepn prominent in the horti- 

 cultural work of the State of Florida, and has. 

 perhaps, as perfect knowledge on all matters 

 pertaining to Florida fruit culture as any man 

 in the State. Therefore it is no wonder tjjat 

 his fruit is second to none. In fact, he gets a 

 fancy price for it, for none but fancy fruit goes 

 out with his brand. His orange-packing house 



is a model of neatness and convenience, em- 

 bracing all of the most improved inventions up 

 to the present day. He pays an extra price for 

 better material for boxes than I have ever seen 

 used for the purpose. In fact, when we visited 

 the Congregational church on Sunday I was 

 struck with the wonderful beauty of some 

 panels selected from specimens of Florida pine. 

 When I asked about it I was told the panels 

 were selections from some of the finest boards 

 used for the sides of orange-boxes. The 

 hoops with which the boxes are bound are 

 made by an invention of Mr. Hart's, from long 

 slender stems of palmetto-leaves. 



The process of gathering and packing is 

 something like this: The fruit is carefully 

 picked, using ladders and step-ladders for the 

 highest branches. It is placed in a peculiar 

 basket something like the German tub hung 

 over the shoulders, as illustrated in Gleanings 

 for 1894. p. 203. The pickers take every thing — 

 good, bad, and indifferent. Then the fruit is 

 poured out into a peculiar orange-box, made 

 so one will pile up over another and keep its 

 place securely, yet with the sides so low that 

 the pickers can not heap the oranges so the box 

 above will mash them. Not an orange is 

 bruised or mashed during the whole process. 

 They are drawn to the packing- house in a 

 wagon, and emptied into a large slatted-bottom 

 tray or vat. This tray swings on pivots so the 

 oranges maybe made to roll either side of it. 

 The first-class, gilt-edged fruit, is selected 

 and thrown into a hopper. This hopper, by an 

 ingenious arrangement, sorts the fruit, placing 

 each size by itself, sorting them from Wi to the 

 box down to 350. Each size is then picked up, 

 papered, and packed. Each paper is stamped 

 with friend Hart's brand, and a pretty show- 

 card is put on top. Some scalloped shelf-paper 

 is daintily placed around the edge; then the 

 smooth veneer covers are put in place. 



Now. the old-time way is for the packer to 

 put his knee on the cover, bringing it into 

 place, bruising and mashing some of the fruit. 

 Not so here. A pretty piece of mechanism 

 brings the cover gently against the fruit, forc- 

 ing it down hardest right where it is to be nail- 

 ed. In fact, the fruit is handled almost like 

 oggs. and the boxes, too. are handled as if the 

 contents were eggs, as far as possible, until 

 they are in the hands of the consumer. Mr. 

 Hart's trade is principally with a class of peo- 

 ple who want the prettiest oranges to be had, 

 even if they do have to pay a little more for 

 them. I have taken pains to give these full de- 

 tails, because it is exactly what I iind whenever 

 I visit a fruit-grower or even a farmer, who 

 gets gilt-edge prices for his products. A hand- 

 some package certainly goes a long way toward 

 getting good prices. Orange- packing estab- 

 lishments, bee-keepers' apiaries, and other like 

 places that are used at only cert;iin periods of 

 the year, are very likely to be found untidy, full 

 of cobwebs, etc. Now, friend Hart may have 

 done some clearing up because he expected me 

 to come and may be make comments in regard 

 to his arrangements. But even if he did, he 

 ought to have much credit for succeeding so 

 well. His whole packing-house and much of 

 its complicated machinery is made of resinous 

 Southern pine; but every piece of wood about 

 the whole place seemed to he not only planed 

 smooth, but sandpapered until every thing look- 

 ed like glossy hard-wood finish in a nice dwell- 

 ing-house. The multitude of little conven- 

 iences and inventions in the way of short cuts 

 makes one readily believe he has studied to 

 simplify the details, perhaps day and night, 

 for years. 



While in the orange-packing house we notic- 

 ed the following courteous hint to loungers. 



