702 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Oct. 1. 



ligent. prugr(\ssi\-c (Jei-inaii. It was vt'rv evi- 

 dent that ho is well vcM'Scd in all (Jennaii bee- 

 literature. He si)ok(> of Hcrlei)SL'li and one or 

 two otliers wlio advoeated l\-incli spacing. As 

 he could not then lefer to the authority at the 

 time of my visit, at my i'(>quest he |)rei)ared tlie 

 article that ai)peai'ed on ])age (17.3 of our previ- 

 ous issue. As usual. I explained that my time 

 was limited and we should have to t)e moving. 

 .Vft(>i- hitching up we bade ()nr fi-iend good-by 

 and started on the road again. 



SHAKOX SI'l{IN(iS. 



The next point we reached was quite a cele- 

 bi-ated pleasnre-i'esort. as above. Manv were 

 there, botli for i)leasui'e and for health'. I do 

 not know that I should object very much to 

 spending a few davs hove' mvs(>lf.' Our tinu' 

 was rather limited; and afterdi'iving hurriedly 

 about, Mr. Elwood stopped in the rear of a 

 large hotel, and asked if I should like to stej) 

 around in front of the structure. I did so. and. 

 presto! one of the most magnificent views of 

 the Moliawk Valley m as spread out befon" me. 

 Miles and miles of territory were to l)e seen off 

 in the distance. (Jentlv cilrving this way and 

 that \\as the Moliawk River. On tin' riglitand 

 left, as far as the eye could reach, wei-e those 

 beautiful hills. Distance lends enchantnnmt to 

 hills to a bicyclei-. I wish 1 had the language 

 to express the emotions that cann- to me then. 

 I am not at all poetic: but our stenographer 

 comes to my aid by quoting the words of the 

 old song: 



Sweet is the vale wheie the Moliawk s'ently glides 

 On its clear winding- way to the sea. 



I am very soriy indeed that I could not have 

 uttered that on the spot: but. as Mark Twain 

 says, we do our thinking after we get home. 

 After feasting my (>ves. I went hurriedly hack 

 to where my friend was holding the hoi'ses. I 

 suppose he thought i was in an -awful sweat" 

 to get off on the wheel again: but the fact was. 

 Mrs. Root was exp(>cting me next day: and I 

 knew that, if I did not arrive at Durham (m the 

 mountains, where she was visiting with friends, 

 at just the appointed houi'. sh(\ like a good 

 many other mortals of her kind, would woi'rv. 

 Much as Mr. Elwood had carted me about, lie 

 insisted on carrying me over the first big hill. 

 As I came to bid him good-bv. it was with some 

 feeling of sori'ow. Our Starkville friend is a 

 man with whom I feel it an honor to he ac- 

 (luainted. He is not only an extensive bee- 

 man, hut lie is progressive, and thoroughly 

 alive to all that may benetit his brother-man", 

 whethei' he be a bee-keeper oi' not. He is mod- 

 est and somewhat reserved, and at tii-st not 

 vei'y communicative, but has a loving heart 

 when you come to know him. Before and after 

 my very [ileasant visit I found all along my 

 journ(\y that bee-keepei's generally hold him iii 

 very high (>steeni. and I do not mu'ch wondei- at 

 it. It was not my |)leasure to meet Caiit. Heth- 

 ei'ington, one of his most intimate fi'iends: but 

 T covet the pleasure of S(>eiug him sonn^ time. 



A FKW STHAV HITS. 



.lust at this i)oint I i-ecall tliat mv mother and 

 my better half remind me that I have made no 

 mention so fai' of bee-kee])ers* wives. .lust you 

 ^vait. dear readers. There aic so manv things 

 that I want to say that it is hai'd to ciowd "em 

 all in at once. 



Another thing that I am reminded of. is. that 

 these stray rambling thoughts may subject the 

 bee-friends wlnmi I visited, to an unusual 

 amount of corresiiondence. If I have not been 

 exi^licit in details I would beg our subsci'ibei-s 

 1o writ<' to this office, i-ather than to the gentle- 

 men I have mentioned. Most of them are ex- 



tensiv*^ bee-keejiers, and their time is quite 

 fully occupied; and when we do get any corres- 

 pondence at all from them, it ought to go. not 

 to one individual, but to thousands of readers. 



I am reminded, also, that, from what I liave 

 said about this section of York »State, a few 

 perhaps prosjiective be(>-ke(>])eis will consider 

 the ])roi)riety of nntving into these localities. 

 Allow me to say that they are pretty well occu- 

 pied by Ikm's already: and if any one thinks 

 seriously of locating among these hills, he will 

 have to buy out som(> bee-kee)jers already in 

 possession of the teri'itory. if he wishes to be 

 honorable about it. Elwood has 1300 colonies: 

 Capt. Hetherington 3000. i)i()bably more; Mr. 

 Tuniclitt', Mr. Smith, and one or two others, 

 liavt^ peiiiajis among them another thousand 

 colonies. I noticed that these out - apiarie.s 

 were just as thickly crowded in as they could 

 be and not overla]) each ()thei'"s territory. 

 While I am quite firmly convinced that this is 

 one of the finest bee-countries in the world, I 

 do not wish to have the friends who so kindly 

 entertained me have some one else come in 

 with more be(>s, and overstock the fields. Come 

 to tliink of it. I am sui'e no one will: therefore, 

 please excuse me. 



These thoughts may seem a little out of place 

 to interject right at this juncture: but if I do 

 not give them liere. I am afraid I shall forget 

 to do so. 



Well, here we are 



ON THE BlfVCT.E AGAIN. 



As Ave spent a little time in sight-seeing, it 

 was about .5 o'clock when 1 left Mr. Elwood. 

 I then had about tw<'lve or fifteen miles to make. 



At nightfall I arrived at . I could have 



gone further to the next town: but as this sec- 

 tion of the country was. of course, entirely new 

 to me I did not particularly relish traveling 

 among the hills, unaccimipanied, unarmed, and 

 alone. I realized that I had made somewhat 

 faster time on the bicycle than we had when 

 driving. As tin' ])lac<' was small it was not 

 difficult to find a hotel, which, having entered. 

 I called for suj)])er and lodging. My heart sank 

 within mo. for I saw that it was one of those 

 plac<'s where a bar was evidently doing a thriv- 

 ing business. There were bottles and glasses; 

 and while I did not feel at all inclined to patron- 

 ize if. I felt very much disinclined to patronize 

 the propi'ietor. even for such innocent things as 

 supijer and lodging. However, my bicycle was 

 leaned against one side of the room; and after 

 washing I partook of a hearty supper. On re- 

 turning to the ro(mi again I discovered that a 

 number had come in to see "that new arrival " 

 and the wh(>el. They were mostly local sports, 

 and men whom I judged patronized the bar. 

 They were not altogether choice in their lan- 

 guage, and the comiiany was decidedly rough. 

 I very much wished then that I had taken my 

 chances of riding in the dark to the next stop- 

 ping-place: but there was no helii for it then. 

 I would have gone to my room, hut I did not 

 exactly like to leave the bicycle to tin- tender 

 mercies of tlios(> chaps. Ere long more came in, 

 and then the drinking began. I fancied they 

 eyed me rather suspiciously. Visions of robbery 

 flitted jjast my eyes; and then I reflected how 

 foolish I was. T carried but little ready cash, a 

 small check, and a Watei'linry watch. They 

 wouldn't touch me, csjx'cialh' if 1 displayed the 

 aforesaid timeiiiece. Before I retired, swear- 

 ing, disputing, and drinking had been cari'ied 

 on to such an extent that I actually feard there 

 would be a tight; in fact, it started, but the 

 proprietor mollified the would-be lighters. 1 

 vowed then that I would never sto|i again in 

 such a |)lace. even if I had to travel all night, 

 unaccom))auied, unai'med, and alone, ovei' an 



