843 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Nov. 1.5. 



Did you ever see a mule try to kick himself 

 to death with the agility, perseverance, and 

 self-determination that Bro. Dayton evinces on 

 page 729? He is actually trying to do that 

 very thing. I do not intend to reflect on his 

 moral character. The nuile is a gentle, docile, 

 patient, and useful animal— when he is good. 

 But with all these excellent traits he is not to 

 be depended on as a bosom friend. I say this 

 with deep regret, for I once had a mule that I 

 slept with— about forty yards off. Neither do 

 I intend to reflect on his (brother Dayton's, I 

 mean) intellectual abilities. He may have an 

 intellect almost as stupendous as my own, but 

 — but I have my doubts. 



I only wish to illustrate the eagerness with 

 which he rushes on to self-destruction. When 

 a professional bee-keeper asserts " that half the 

 honey that leaves this coast is adulterated with 

 glucose," can he blame outsiders for taking up 

 and echoing the cry? This is the wildest as- 

 sertion I have seen in any bee-paper for a long 

 1 me. It is not only not true, but, at the pres- 

 ent price of extracted honey here, it is absolute- 

 ly ridiculous. 



Glucose is not produced on this coast. It 

 must be brought from the Missouri River. It 

 could not be made here with profit, where corn 

 meal is retailed at 2}4 cents per pound. I sup- 

 pose glucose would cost 2 cents per pound; 

 freight overland. l}4 cents; drayage at both 

 4nds of the line, handling, and mixing, at least 

 }:> cent more. Then each 120 pounds of glucose 

 would take a new case and cans — say 80 cents 

 more. This would run the cost up to 4% cents, 

 while pure honey could be shipped at 33^ cents. 

 Even if glucose could be bought for one cent a 

 pound, the mixture would stil! cost as much as 

 pure honey. More than two million pounds of 

 extracted honey have been sold on this coast 

 this year for 3}4 cents: and even now they are 

 offering only 3%. No large house could stand 

 up under such transactions as friend Dayton 

 describes. No house of that kind would last 

 more than one year. Moreover, it would not be 

 a financial success unless they would steal the 

 glucose. I know they have not done that. I 

 am sure of it. lam known in San Francisco 

 to be the most successful remover of large 

 quantities of goods, when the owner is not 

 there, that there is on the Pacific slope. None 

 of the large honey-shippers have made appli- 

 cation for my services. 



I do not believe that one case of honey in 

 20,000 that leaves this coast is adulterated. No 

 double-geared idiot, standing on his head, 

 would think of it. Really, I believe the man 

 wants to blow himself up. Look here, Bro. 

 Dayton, don't you do it. I am the only man in 

 all these United States who has the authority 

 of Congress to blow himself up for the good of 

 his country and his fellow-men. Don't you do 

 it. I don't want to see you shot, imprisoned. 



fined, and hung! Look at the awful prospect 

 before you. Look at the court, the crowd, the 

 scaffold, and the gravel 



The latter part of Bro. Dayton's letter is an 

 absolute wail of agony against the retail grocer 

 for selling sugar too low and honey too high — 

 against the vSpreckles monopoly, the county 

 supervisors, town councils, merchants, adulter- 

 ators, etc. Bro. Dayton, if you survive the 

 catastrophe I have indicated above, why not 

 get aboard of a Kansas cyclone and run the 

 whole " bilen " of them down ? 



RAMBLE 143. 



By Rambler. 



On the 6th of December we entered the tail 

 end of the Sanfracisketo Canyon, and our ponies 

 put us many miles toward home, for we were 

 on the down grade all day. Mountains hem- 

 med us in; wild scenery: side canyons, rugged 

 cliffs; winding glades, and finally a nice stream 

 of water, a branch of the Santa Clara River. 



This is a good honey-producing canyon, and 

 we often caught a sort of panoramic view of an 

 apiary as we whirled along. They were not in 

 a high state of order; things were tumbled 

 around as though a brace of bears might have 

 been turned loose among the hives. 



The locality is certainly wild enough and 

 lonely enough to suit the most hermit-disposed 

 bachelor. 



The last apiary we passed, we learned after- 

 ward, was owned by Mr. Mercer, of Ventura. 

 The wind could whistle through every thing on 

 the plantation, and we noted that the honey - 

 house was well ventilated. The view from the 

 highway was highly satisfactory to our curi- 

 osity, and we kept right on our way, and camp- 

 ed that night under the broad-spreading oaks 

 just out of the town of Newhall. 



The rains descended that night: the wind 

 blew; the thunder rolled, and we had a hard 

 time keeping our tent from going over the trees. 

 Our sleep was of the restless order, and we 

 were happy to see the morning break, with 

 prospects of fair weather. Just six months 

 before we had crossed the San Fernando Pass, 

 and it was then arduous climbing; tint now, 

 after the heavy rain of the night, we feared 

 rough roads, and we were not disappointed. 

 Our wagon swayed through wash-outs and over 

 debris; and we had gotten well down the other 

 side, and were congratulating ourselves that 

 the worst was passed, when we came to a little 

 stream of water running quietly across the 



