94 



GLEANINGS IN BEi) CULTURE. 



Feb. 



however, Mrs. II., that friend Doolittle is a 

 very careful man. He does not trust much 

 to hired help, but has his eye on every thing 

 that is going on, and therefore he would 

 succeed where the majority of people might 

 not. 



EAMBLE NO. 20. 



KAISING honey; PEDDLING AT HOME, ETC. 



After a few days with our generous Scotch 

 friends I began to feel so plethoric on flsh and wild 

 gaine that a further Rainble was absolutely neces- 

 sary ; and one beautiful morning we took passage on 

 the steamer Horicon and made the entire trip of 

 the lake, about 30 miles. The beauties of the lake 

 must be seen to be appreciated, and the pen re- 

 fuses to adequately describe the beautiful pietui-es 

 that are constantly presented to the eye as we 

 gracefully float over these historic waters. The 

 Hawkeye was kept quite busy, and I have before 

 me many souvenirs of the trip. From Baldwin, our 

 landing-place, my trip continued by rail and stage, 

 through Ticonderoga, and over battlefields of early 

 days. The old fort is now crumbling, /--\ 

 but well repays a visit by the tourist. "- 

 Near by is the home of Joseph Cook, 

 and we were contemplf.tlng the rear- 

 ing of great men near where patriots 

 fell, when we were dumped oflf the 

 stage in the middle of the highway, 

 and told to go straight ahead and we 

 would find a boat to ferry us across 

 Lake Champlain. I rambled out on a 

 stone causeway, and saw a wheezing 

 affair approaching, which appeared 

 like some ancient settler's forlorn 

 cabin adrift on the angry billows. It 

 finally hauled itself in on a wire rope. 

 The Hawkeye was leveled, and the 

 captain dodged inside; and when T 

 boarded his craft he wanted to know 

 what I was up to with " that 'ere 

 magnetical battery." While on the 

 elegant Horicon we felt really aristo- 

 cratic; and had we a mahogany cane 

 and opera-glass, the Rambler might 

 have been taken for a millionaire; but 

 when we sat down on a coal-hod in the 

 greasy engine-room of this crawfish 

 affair, which had its head at the sides 

 and a tail at each end, we felt as 

 though we could shake hands with the next loose- 

 jointed pauper we should chance to meet. 



After landing, an invigorating walk of a mile 

 found us at the residence of J. H. Larrabee. It 

 was extremely easy to find him, for everybody 

 seemed to know the genial John. We found him 

 just as busy as a bee, operating his Barnes saw, 

 getting out crates in which to ship his honey. 

 Though not as bountiful as usual, his fine comb 

 honey measured up into the thousands of pounds, 

 and a ready sale at fair prices encourages him to 

 look forward with bright plans for the future. His 

 honey-house is quite small; but having an out- 

 apiary recently established, he proposes to move 

 the small house on sleighs some time during the 

 winter, and build in its place a large structure 26x30, 

 and two stories high. Our friend John, in common 

 with nearly all bee-keepers in this portion of "Ver- 

 mont, uses the Bristol chaff hive, with ten L. 



frames. Our friends here do not believe in small 

 brood-chambers; and we will guarantee that every 

 hive in Bro. Larrabee's yard had 50 lbs. of honey 

 with which to go through the winter. The crate, 

 or clamp, for securing comb honey in this apiary 

 struck us as a very convenient arrangement. Our 

 Hawkeye gave a very good picture of it. The crate 

 contains forty 1-lb. sections. The sections are sup- 

 ported by slats nailed permanently across the bot- 

 tom. Wood separators are used, and these slide 

 loosely in grooves cut in the ends of the crate. A 

 follower sawed thin at one edge, with the thin edge 

 up, and a wedge to press down, the sections are all 

 held firmly in the crate; and by removing the 

 wedge and follower, any section can be readily re- 

 moved. A bee-space can be allowed above or be- 

 low, but we think in this apiary they are used with- 

 out it. 



After showing us his many labor-saving imple- 

 ments, the genial John said he would teach the 

 Rambler how to raise comb honey. The Rambler, 

 who is an extractor man, was immediately all at- 

 tention. We sat down to a little table, "And," said, 

 Bro. L., " I prefer to secure the honey in these 



teaching rambler how to "raise" comb honey. 



beautiful white four-piece Vermont poplar sec- 

 tions. Let the honey match the wood in whiteness. 

 Then, sir, while a great many short-sighted bee- 

 keepers are afraid there will be too many honey- 

 raisers, I do really desire to make more; and T 

 stand upon the broad platform of educating all 

 classes, rich and poor, to raise comb honey. Now, 

 what is more tempting than a pound of this pearly 

 whitness, with the aroma of an opening rose? You 

 cut it into squares, and gently raise one of them on 

 a fork; the jaw drops; the left eyelid quivers; the 

 tongue advances, and, oh my ! the sensation when 

 honey and taste meet! Why, Mr. Rambler, I have 

 educated my neighbors to such an extent that rais- 

 ing honey on a fork is obsolete. Some use a jack- 

 knife, some a butcher-knife; one charming milliner 

 uses a button-hook; another refined young beauty 

 over on Cream Hill uses a toothpick; and as soon as 

 I get Bro. Newman's honey almanac to operating, I 



