362 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Apr. 1. 



these bees are liable to swarm and desert their 

 boxes when the queens fly out to mate. We 

 provide against this by arranging about thirty 

 of these small frames in pairs, in a flat hive, 

 into which we put a good swarm and a prime 

 queen. At any time we can get unsealed brood 

 from this, especially if we feed regularly when 

 necessary. If this colony weakens, add capped 

 brood from our regular apiary. 



Queens get fertilized sooner in these boxes 

 than in large hives, and the work of examina- 

 tion and finding queens is much less than with 

 boxes containing two or three large frames. If 

 these boxes are kept strong with bees we prefer 

 three frames, for then we know just where to 

 lind the queen and her deposit of eggs. 



It is best to place these small hives in a mod- 

 erate shade. If this is not practicable, lay on a 

 second board, large enough to keep off the in- 

 tense heat. 



Years ago we adopted a little convenience 

 that we have not seen mentioned, but which 

 we find indispensable. We bought a soapstone, 

 the kind used for foot-warmers. The wire bail 

 was removed. A thin light box was made, six 

 inches deep, and large enough to receive loosely 

 this stone. Strips are provided to raise the stone 

 yi inch off the bottom. A portion of a barrel- 

 hoop is fastened on securely for a bail. A cov- 

 er, with cleats underneath, slides under the 

 bail, and a block is nailed on top, forming a 

 handle. A quilt covers the stone. In hot 

 weather this box forms a cool place for cells or 

 queens. In cool weather we warm the stone to 

 the required temperature. In the box we lay 

 a small board bored full of holes of the proper 

 size to hold spiral queen-cages, which, as we use 

 them, are as handy as any we have seen, and 

 which are not subject to a royalty or infringe- 

 ment. 



In our next we will describe them and tell 

 you how we make them. J. H. Nem.is. 



BAMBLE NO. 81. 



reckon I'se got dat ar coop full, 

 boun' fur, Mr. Hansen? done got 



ON MEXICAN son.. 



Our only place for crossing the line into old 

 Mexico where there was a custom-house was 

 at Tia Juana — pronounced Te Whah-na. Our 

 journey was not out of the ordinary until we 

 were near the border, where Mr. Hansen came 

 across an old darkey friend of his, and the fol- 

 lowing conversation ensued. 



"Why! hello, Jim! What you doing away 

 down here? Are you in the chicken business 

 yet?" 



"Well, I 

 Whar's ye 

 lost, eh?" 



"Oh! we're looking around to see what's the 

 prospect for bees down here. Do you know of 

 any stray swarms around?" 



" Why! yas, dat ar schoolhouse up on de hill 

 dar is chock full on 'em. Bar's two in the cup- 

 erlo, one just over the mirandy, and another 

 near dat ar dorcas window." 



" That so, Jim? Glad you told me. I'll come 

 down some day and take them out." 



"Yah, yah! you will, eh? Why, dem's my 

 bees. I wants dem myself — dems mine, shoer, 

 Mr. Hansen. I"s goin' to start in de bee busi- 

 ness myself; spect to make a right smart thing 

 out of 'em." 



" All right, all right, Jim. Success to you 

 with poultry and bees. Good-by, Jim." 



A little-further along we found Messenger's 

 Store, where an honest German was having his 

 ups and downs in the border country. The Tia 

 Juana River had washed away several thou- 



sand dollars for him, but he was up and at work 

 again. His store was a sort of depot for receiv- 

 ing honey and wax from the Mexicans; and 

 what he received was, a good share of it, taken 

 from wild colonies found in rocks and other cav- 

 ities, and the trade amounts to several thousand 

 pounds per season. Mr. Muth— a brother, I be- 

 lieve, of our Cincinnati Muth— lives not many 

 miles from this point, and we learned from Mr. 

 Messenger that the product of his apiary during 

 the past year was 18.5 cases of honey, or 23,2()0 

 lbs.; so it seems that the Muths are successful 

 in the matter of sweets wherever they are lo- 

 cated. 



Our visit to this honey and wax depot led us 

 to Tia Juana in a roundabout way, and we 

 entered the town by the back door, or from the 

 Mexican side. Although we have many Mexi- 

 cans in California, they are very much Ameri- 

 canized in manners and dress. Here we found 

 quite a different appearing crowd, with a more 

 uniformly swarthy complexion; the tall broad- 

 brimmed decorated Mexican hat was a distin- 

 guishing feature, and more people were on 

 horseback than in wagons. Tia Juana is a 

 small town, with but few buildings, and the 

 custom-house is the most pretentious of any. 

 There was formerly an American portion to the 

 town: but the river, in one of its periodical 

 overflows, had wiped it out, and the Americans 

 now residing there were in scattered locations. 

 Tia Juana is at the end of railroad travel. 

 The motor from San Diego runs here mostly to 

 take visitors out here who wish to see a Mexi- 

 can town and walk on Mexican soil. We find 

 plenty of the rising generation, and about an 

 equal number of dogs. It is proverbial, that, 

 the poorer a Mexican family, the greater the 

 number of babies and dogs. 



We presented ourselves at the custom-house 

 in our everyday toilet of slouch hats, brown 

 duck overalls and blouses, and without boiled 

 shirt-fronts or starched collars. The officers 

 evidently took our woi'd for it that we were 

 quail-hunters, and gave us the permit desired, 

 and we forthwith jogged happily along into 

 Mexico, and westward toward the San Antonio 

 Canyon. The only signs of life we saw for a 

 long distance was a herd of several hundred 

 goats brousing on the dry herbage, and attended 

 by a solitary mounted vaquero. 



The San Antonio we found to be something 

 of a labyrinth of canyons; and, after getting 

 puzzled over the various trails, Mr. Hansen 

 climbed a small mountain to get his bearings. 

 From his elevated position a barley stack was 

 visible, and, making that our objective, we 

 hastened down the canyon and found that to be 

 the ranch we were seeking — Machado's, of San 

 Antonio. Mr. Hansen had been here before, 

 and was somewhat acquainted with the owner, 

 who could talk but very little English. The 

 Mexicans are something of a silent race, and 

 our conversation was not very prolix; and what 

 there was of it, I left for Mr. H. to perform. 



The Machados lived in a typical Mexican 

 adobe, with a broad veranda upon one side, 

 upon which the family live as much as, if not 

 more than, they do inside. In the living-room 

 there was an ample fireplace and no stove. The 

 family had just eaten their supper; and, after 

 getting permission to camp near the house, we 

 prepared to make a fire to cook our evening 

 meal, when Mr. Machado gave us permission to 

 use the fireplace, upon which there was already 

 a rousing fire. So friend H.. who was chief cook 

 that evening, went in with his little pet steam 

 cooker loaded with potatoes and quail, and 

 placed it over the fire, and soon our food was 

 cooking finely. Before our cooking was finish- 

 ed it was getting dark outside; and instead of 

 lighting lamps, and reading books and newspa- 



