1896 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



493 



the combs showing plainly in the large open- 

 ings; and in several that were separated by 

 only a small space, the combs seemed to merge 

 together in front. The average newspaper cor- 

 respondent would certainly write up the occu- 

 pants as one vast swarm of bees, and call upon 

 his imagination for tons of honey; but Fred 

 estimated that there were twenty-five separate 

 colonies. He then set to work to dig through 

 the wall nearest to his path and into the rear 

 of one of those pockets containing bees and 

 honey. In due time he had the satisfaction of 

 opening up the most unique bee-hive he ever 

 manipulated. Securing a large piece of chalk 

 he roughly fashioned it into the semblance of a 

 plate. Now driving the bees back with smoke, 

 and with his jack-knife in hand, he removed a 

 nice comb of honey containing several pounds, 

 placing it carefully upon the plate. The 

 broken walls of the bees' home were repaired 

 temporarily with a few pieces of chalk, and 

 Fred considered his day's 

 work done. 



The sun was disappearing 

 beyond the Coast Range, and, 

 gathering up his utensils and 

 plate of honey, he left the 

 scene of his afternoon labors 

 and approached the cabin. 

 The men were busy cooking 

 their evening meal, and did 

 not notice Fred's approach. 

 When he drew near the house 

 he hid his plate of honey un- 

 der a box, intending to sur- 

 prise the men when they were 

 ready to eat. 



Upon Fred's appearance. 

 Matt Hogan, who was pre- 

 paring a kettle of beans, com- 

 menced his good - natured 

 badinage by shouting, "Is it 

 yerself, Misther Anderson? 

 and how is yer apry? Will 

 ye's market yer crop in Sac- 

 ramento or San Francisco? 

 Och! a taste of yer honey 

 wud not be amiss to meself, 

 Misther Anderson." 



Fred felt quite lively after 

 his afternoon's success, and, 

 men's vein of humor at his expense, joked with 

 them about his bees and honey. 



This being his first experience in a California 

 bachelor's quarters he became interested in 

 their cooking operations. Mr. Ghering had his 

 mind upon some meat that was boiling in a 

 little round-bottomed kettle upon the stove. 

 Matt Hogan had finished preparing his beans, 

 and, in adjusting his kettle, the meat-kettle 

 received a push that revolved it in the griddle- 

 hole, and the water all poured upon the stove- 

 hearth and floor. 



"Begorra!" said Matt; "but the top of that 

 stove is too shmall intirely. The kettles won't 

 agraa, Misther Ghering."' 



"Yes, Matt, they will work if you haff care," 

 said Ghering. 



The kettles were adjusted, and more water 

 poured over the naeat. The top of the stove 

 was well occupied, for the other ranchmen had 

 each a kettle on the stove— one with prunes 

 boiling, and the other preparing a kettle of 

 mush. The mush man found a little trouble 

 and disappointment when he salted his boiling 

 mess. It foamed nearly to the top of the kettle. 



"Well, now, what haff you put into that 

 mush?" said Ghering. 



"Blessed if 1 know," said the man, "if it 

 weren't salt." 



"Salt! let me see; that's soda, man. Ha, ha! 

 you spoilt that mess of pudding, and you'll haff 

 to try again. Remember, salt is in the tin with 

 yellow label— soda in the red tin." 



"his heart year:9ed again for the return of reason." 



indulging the About this time there was a strong odor of 

 burning beans. 



"Hey, there. Matt," said boss Ghering; "your 

 beans are burning." 



Matt sprang forward, overturning the box he 

 was sitting upon, exclaiming, " Arrah, there, 

 now; ye's don't say so;" and he snatched off 

 the cover. " Howly St. Patrick! I covered 

 them banes with a flood of wather, and they 

 have shwelled and shwelled until the wather 

 is all inside them. Me banes! me beautiful 

 banes!" then ofi' came the kettle, hitting the 

 meat-kettle, which turned politely and spilled 



