January, 1916. 



American Ma Journal k 



it was only a mile, we determined to 

 walk. We asked only the general 

 direction as we wanted to see which of 

 us would first recognize the place from 

 the pictures we had seen. Hastily eat- 

 ing a lunch we set forth, and it was 

 our great surprise, after going but a 

 short way, to hear the cheery hail from 

 an approaching buggy, and to lookup 

 into the smiling face of Dr. Miller him- 

 self. He had hitched up and come to 

 fetch us with that hospitality that marks 

 his every action toward his guests. 



Could this smiling, boyish figure be 

 the great Dr. Miller ? Far beyond the 

 four score mark, a man who knew and 

 advised with our grandparents, one of 

 those first adventurous spirits that 

 pushed the genius of the new ideals of 

 America across the Western Reserve 

 when Chicago was only a frontier out- 

 post of the far, far West, and yet so 

 full of the spirit of youth that his 

 years fall from him like a mantle, and 

 almost instantly a feeling of fellowship 

 springs up in the heart at the infection 

 of his smile. 



" Come, get right in here. There is 

 room enough. Each of you give me a 

 knee. I will sit upon your lap," and 

 laughing and chatting like three boys 

 upon a lark, we are driving down a 

 beautiful village street toward the 

 country. 



The Miller home is back from the 

 road upon a hilltop that gives a view 

 across the rolling hills, clustering 

 trees and fertile valleys checkered by 

 farms and orchards and patches of 

 meadow ground. The drive is a noble 

 avenue of basswood planted by Dr. 

 Miller himself, and, he told us, the only 

 basswood in his vicinity. 



To younger men, and especially to 

 us in this newer Texas land where I 

 was born, there is a feeling of awe 

 when a man points out to us a row of 

 stately trees, and says, "With my own 

 hands I planted them ;" when in the 

 orchard he can say, " This tree bears 

 two varieties of fruit, forty years ago I 



grafted it." How much more striking 

 when such statements come from a 

 mouth wreathed in a boyish smile, and 

 clear bright eyes twinkle from a sunny 

 pink cheeked face that belies the well 

 trimmed fringe of a white beard. 



Dr. Miller is remarkably agile and 

 sprightly. In explaining to us how 

 and why he cleated the ends of his 

 hives he demonstrated by quickly 

 stooping down and picking one of 

 them up almost shoulder high where 

 he turned it about for our inspection. 

 He uses much more entrance space for 

 his bees than we do in the South, and 

 when it was remarked upon, he at once 

 got down on the ground to point out 

 to us the reasons why and to show the 

 bees clustering beneath the frames. 



Fig. 64— Blossoms of Western Ironweed 



Fig. 65 — Clump of Common Ironweed 



His movements have all the swing and 

 spontaneity of a man less than half his 

 years. 



Upon arriving at the house we were 

 met by a welcome that gripped the 

 heart with its warmth and cordiality. 

 Some one has said that back of every 

 successful man there is a woman. No 

 wonder then that Dr. Miller shines so 

 brightly in our sky, for back of him 

 are two women. Mrs. Miller and Miss 

 Wilson are no less interesting than the 

 Doctor. The thing that struck me the 

 most was the smiles on every face. I 

 have heard of women afraid to smile 

 for fear of causing wrinkles. I prescribe 

 for any such a visit to Marengo, and a 

 half hour chat in the sunny sitting 

 room with thee two beautiful bright- 

 eyed women. 



Dr. Miller's family are great lovers 

 of sunshine and of nature. They bring 

 these things into their home life both 

 figuratively and literally. The favorite 

 room is one with large bow windows 

 opening to the South. When we were 

 there the golden Indian summer sun- 



shine was streaming into the room 

 through the fronds of many varieties of 

 ferns that grow in the window seat and 

 from hanging baskets in the alcove. 

 One cannot imagine a cozier place, 

 nor a happier one, as we saw it mel- 

 lowed by the merry jest and quiet 

 laughter of these old-young people. 



Dr. Miller's work is not done. We 

 ventured to make suggestions relative 

 to a certain book, yet uncompiled, that 

 will be. when published, of greatest in- 

 terest and moment to the beekeeping 

 world, and it was good to see the 

 earnestness in his manner as he noted 

 and weighed our views and spoke of 

 his future tasks and future hopes. Like 

 all great souls he is unaffected and 

 modest. He does not underrate his 

 work nor its value to his beloved voca- 

 tion, but he assumes no boastfulness 

 nor egotism concerning it. 



These, then, are the three impres- 

 sions most vividly made upon me 

 by my visit to Marengo : 



Youth — The springing font of age, 

 that frugal living and honest labor has 

 secured for our great teacher. 



Cheerfulnes — The bright and ever 

 shifting smile that radiates from Dr. 

 Miller's face and is reflected back upon 

 him by all with whom he comes in 

 contact. 



Earnestness — The modesty of his 

 bearing and absence of pride or boast- 

 fulness, underlaid with a feeling of 

 consecration to a work that he knows 

 to be of value and of aid to others. 



San Antonio. Tex. 



[While Dr. Miller is always courte- 

 ous to visitors, we know that the de- 

 mands on his time are many, and that 

 his work taxes his strength to the ut- 

 most. He found it necessary to dis- 

 continue answering questions by mail, 

 several years ago, and his age forbids 

 inviting every beekeeper that comes by 

 to visit him, much as he would like to 

 do so. We write this footnote to cau- 

 tion our readers against imposing upon 

 Dr. Miller's generosity with no other 

 reason for a visit than the desire to 

 meet our old friend at home. " A word 

 to the wise is sufficient." — -Editor.] 



Clean Section Honey 



BY FR.^NCIS JAGER. 



THERE is no doubt that the greatest 

 obstacle for obtaining a good 

 price for comb honey is the dirty 

 condition in which the sections are 

 put on the market. We have now 

 national grading rules which call for 

 sections free from propolis for fancy 

 and No. 1 grades. This is one good 

 point for which all honor to the Na- 

 tional convention at Cincinnati aside 

 from other points on grading comb 

 honey, which should have been left 

 over for another year or two for wider 

 discussion before being adopted. 



But why limit cleanness only to 

 fancy and No. 1 grades ? It hurts the 

 honey trade if any sections i^et to the 

 market in a dirty condition. Most of 

 the comb honey marketed at present 

 looks more or less stained and unat- 

 tractive on account of propolis. 



