1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



559 



vantage in using old cans is, that dealers look 

 upon them with suspicion. So many kerosene- 

 cans that have not been properly cleaned are 

 used, that, in some cases, the honey tastes 

 strongly of it. and is practically worthless. 

 Dealers invariably inquire if the honey is in 

 new or old cans. If in new cans it is easier to 



RAMBLER AND PATENT PATCHES. 



make a trade, and at a better price. Leakage 

 from old cans is another important item. It is 

 the usual plan to test them by blowing into 

 them. Place the mouth against the oriKce, if 

 the size will admit of it, and blow. If the can 

 holds the air until you remove your mouth it is 

 pronounced sound; but many times a little rust 

 spot or a little line of rust along a seam will 

 afterward break open, under the jolting of 

 teaming, and the result is a lost can of honey. 

 The contents thus lost would pay for several 

 new cans. During the last session of the Cali- 

 fornia Bee-keepers' Association, the secretary 

 was directed to correspond with the manufac- 

 turers of cans and cases. In compliance with 

 that request he found that cases with two cans 

 could be purchased in San Francisco for 72 cts. 

 each, in quantities, or 74 cts. with a center- 

 board in the case. It is hoped that the associa- 

 tion will have samples of cans for examination 

 at their next meeting, and take strong action 

 in favor of new cans. 



And now, Mr. Editor, 1 wish to occupy a little 

 space in which to thank the many fair corres- 

 pondents in the East for their kindly interest 

 in the comfort and welfare of the Rambler 

 while on his lonely ranch. I will individualize 

 only a few, and first wish to say to that dear 

 one who wrote from the sunny southland, ask- 

 ing if I was " a real verity " or a fiction, that I 

 am a genuine verity, and have been for several 

 years; am subject to corns and backache just 

 like other samples of the male sex; the apiary 

 which I control, and the cabin in which I live. 

 and the dear old smutty flapjack-griddle, are 

 all verities, just as pictured in Gleanings. 



Another dear wants to know if I do not want 

 an Angora cat to keep me company. Why, 

 bless you, no! The cat would destroy more 

 company than it could replace by its purring 

 presence. While I am writing this letter a 

 brown bird is hopping around on my doorstep, 

 and a cat would soon exterminate the bird. 

 Three gray squirrels are playing around the 

 wax-extractor, and this evening half a doziMi 

 rabbits will come up near my door to entertain 



me. All of these would fall a prey to the cat. 

 I think if I could live among my pets without 

 being troubled by the destroying and frighten- 

 ing influence of the many hunters who prowl 

 around here I could easily tame the most of 

 my little wild friends. Oh, no! there is no room 

 for cats here. 



A friend in the far East touched a 

 tender chord in my nature by sending 

 a package of automatic patches for 

 my pants. If you have a rent or hole 

 in a garment, all you have to do is to 

 cut a piece of coffee-colored tissue to 

 the desired size, and place it over the 

 rent; then cut a piece of cloth the 

 same size and place over the tissue; 

 apply a little moisture and a warm 

 flatiron, and the job is done. Next 

 to the bachelor's button, that needs 

 no needle and thread to attach it, 

 this patch is the bachelor's next best 

 friend. As the saying is, I am a 

 thousand times obliged to the lady 

 in question. It shows in her a high 

 utilitarian cast of character, which, 

 I am honestly bound to say, I admire. 

 For the benefit of my fellow bach- 

 elors, I would say that these patches 

 can be obtained of J. F. Upson »fe Co., 

 of Unionville, Conn.; 35 cts. per pack- 

 age. In order to render all aid possi- 

 ble, I herewith give a sketch of the 

 way the patch is applied by the 



Rambler. 



THOSE OLD BEE -BOOKS. 



ANOTHER peep AT THE "GOOD OLD TIMES." 



In the year 1679 a great famine in bee-litera- 

 ture seems to have struck England. This was 

 during the reign of the " Merry Monarch," 

 Charles II. This said Charles had in his em- 

 ploy a man named Moses Rusden, a druggist, 

 as Royal Bee-master. That means, probably, 

 that Mr. R. got some of his honey before the 

 jolly monarch, who said he would thereafter 

 eat honey only from Mr. Rusden's apiary. Even 

 to this day. very shrewd tactics are resorted to 

 in England to get the royal indorsement on cer- 

 tain articles of food. This done, somebody's 

 fortune is made. Mr. Rusden's sudden eleva- 

 tion probably put it into his head to write a 

 book on bees; and a more useless compilation 

 than this it would be difficult to find. Still, I 

 am thankful we have the book. It contains 

 143 pages, 4x6 inches. The print is very good, 

 and might pass off as being a hundred years 

 younger than it is. The everlasting mystery 

 about the sex of bees is the burden of it. The 

 writer assumes that, whatever else is true or 

 false, the principal bee in a colony is a king, and 

 he tries to prove this by saying that he had seen 

 the king deposit its seed on his hand. It seems 

 incredible that one who has ever seen houseflies 

 busy with their economy should have failed to 

 conclude that there was not the least probabili- 

 ty of a male insect doing any thing of the kind, 

 as there could then hfive been no inciting cause 

 for the act. On the other hand, how easy to 

 conclude, from what we see of other insects, 

 that it must be a female that made the deposi- 

 tion of matter on the hand! Nature is liberal 

 and even lavish in the use of egg-material, but 

 exceedingiv sparing of the life-germ itself. How 

 little Mr. Rusden dreamed, as he looked at the 

 innocent e<,'g of the queen, that the oflice of the 

 drone toward tliat egg had been performed long 

 before, ami that said drone was gathered to its 

 fathers — or grandfathers, perhaps! The error 

 was the same as if he had confounded a hen's 



