THE BEE-KEEPERS' REVIEW. 



71 



from the fact that it was printed at all, my 

 lengthy paper must have contained some- 

 thing of value. I recall two items of its 

 subject matter— one an account of an awful 

 predicament into which 1 plunged, the other 

 a great, open-mouthed, wondering, anxious 

 uquiry. If there was in that essay but little 

 information or real thought, there must at 

 least have been some fo'od for thought, 

 which is not a bad thing sometimes. 



Encouraged by my successes I sent off a 

 third great long paper. I think it must have 

 been largely a display of enthusiastic ignor- 

 rnce. Certain it is I never saw it again. 

 But I was in it — I was a bee keeper ana a 

 writer for a journal. New revelations and 

 new inspirations came to me at every step, 

 and one failure could not stop me. Subse- 

 quent efforts shared a better fate, although 

 they sometimes came back to me minus both 

 head and tail. I soon learned not to waste 

 time and paper on exordium and peroration. 

 Why do I tell these experiences V Because 

 of the lessons they teach. I was always full 

 of my subject, and I vented that fullness. 

 What I saw and learned were veritable 

 sources of inspiration to me. Hence my 

 successes. My enthusiasm was not properly 

 tempered with discretion. I rushed into 

 print too freely — or tried to. Hence my 

 failures. If readers are a little tired of some 

 of the old writers, a you say, (and I think 

 they are), here is the remedy : Novices filled 

 with the pursuit, who have not yet got to 

 persistently riding hobbies or treading old 

 ruts, may often prove among the best of 

 teachers. Or some bee keepers of experince 

 who have never gone into print, could, if 

 they only thought so — if they only wanted to 

 — if they only would write, — do some good 

 work. I agree with Mr. Clarke that if some 

 of our great lights would write less their 

 light would shine all the brighter. 



By the way, however, I deem Mr. Clarke's 

 article impractical, in the main. If his no- 

 tions were to prevail we would have fewer 

 journals, and the few writers would have' the 

 field to themselves — and the journals we 

 would have would not be so good either. I 

 appreciate such writers as R. L. Taylor and 

 others who write so elegantly, but I would 

 rather read the contributions of some whose 

 manuscripts I suspect are never presentable 

 until doctored by the editor, than some who 

 can write and talk so smoothly. 



It is no doubt a great task for these soldiers 

 of the rank and file to write articles for pub- 



lication. I know it is so with myself. If I 

 did not have to dig ten to fifteen hours per 

 day six days in the week so much of the year, 

 and spent more of my time in literary work, 

 it might be different. Still, availability of 

 talent is not one of my gifts. Whatever 

 merit there may be in my writings is the 

 fruit of hard work. 



In a pigeon-hole in my secretary is a pile 

 of old letters, circulars, etc., blank upon one 

 side — my scribbling paper. My thoughts 

 first go down on these. I seldom send off 

 anything intended for publication that has 

 not been re-written entire, and in that case 

 none of them ever go as they were first 

 indited. It often takes hard study to arrange 

 the material in neat and logical order, and 

 make the diction agreeable. Often I have 

 ached to write up some subject, but failed to 

 do so because I could not strike oft' an article 

 in an hour or two, and to take half a day or 

 more was to neglect my business. Yes, I 

 know something of the obstacles in the way 

 of many who might otherwise write and 

 write well. Dr. Miller can compose easily 

 and freely no doubt, but he is more versatile, 

 and capable of doing more than many others 

 who could do some equally good work, that 

 is all. It would simply take longer, harder 

 work, to write a good article and they would 

 not accomplish so much. Moreover, a slow, 

 plodding, painstaking workman will always 

 do better work than a quick, electric hand, 

 and the hard wrought essay of the man who 

 has to dig them out of the recesses of his 

 mind are of far more value than the rapid 

 utterances of the one who can dash off a 

 paper in an hour— that is, as a rule. And if 

 one's English is not quite correct, why I 

 presume editors are willing to polish up a 

 diamond for the sake of the diamond itself, 

 you know. 



The class of men who should write the 

 bulk of apicultural literature are the spe- 

 cialists. The rule will hold good with any 

 pursuit. The man with thoughts and inter- 

 ests divided among a farm, a bank, an apiary 

 and politics, cannot become an expert apiar- 

 ist, — at least the one who can is a rare genius. 

 And it naturally follows that such an one 

 cannot write the best. The requisite knowl- 

 edge and enthusiasm are both wanting. 

 There are those of the rank and file who can 

 write better papers on practical bee culture 

 than can Prof. Cook. Dr. Miller's " Year 

 Among the Bees" is a better text-book on 

 apiary work than Cook's Manual. Bee keep- 



