308 



AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL 



September 



mouth of the lane, while Charity cast 

 about hopelessly for some way of es- 

 cape. Suddenly, with the entrance of 

 the soldiers, the bees began to buzz 

 with a cannon's roar, as if to say, 

 "Here we are, Charity! Didn't Wash- 

 ington say we were patriots, too? 

 Just give us a chance to defend our 

 country!" 



Like lightning, now, Charity bent 

 from her saddle, and seizing a stout 

 stick, she wheeled around to the 

 outer side of the hedge that protect- 

 ed the hives like a low wall. Then, 

 with a smart blow, she beat each 

 hive until the bees clouded the air. 

 Realizing from experience that bees 

 alwavs follow the thing that hits 

 them' rather than the person who di- 

 rects it, she threw the stick full force 

 at her pursuers. 



As Charity galloped off at high 

 speed she heard the shouts of fury 

 from the soldiers, who fought madly 

 against the bees. And, of course, the 

 harder thev fought, the harder they 

 were stung. If they had been armed 

 with swords the brave bees could not 

 have kept the enemy more magnifi- 

 cently at bay. 



While Charity was riding furiously 

 miles away, down the pike, past the 

 bridge, over the hill, right into Wash- 

 inton's camp, her would-be pursuers 

 lay limply in the dust— their noses 

 swollen like powder horns. When 

 the little maid finally gained admis- 

 sion to Washinton's tent, for to none 

 other would she trust her secret, the 

 great general stared at her gray 

 dress torn to ribbons, her kerchief 

 draggled with inud and her gold hair 

 loosened by the wind. But Charity 

 had no time for ceremony. 



"I have a message for thee, sir," 



AN -APIARY IN THE WAR ZONE, OR RATHER WHAT WAS LEFT OF THE APIARY 

 AFTER THE GERMAN RETREAT IN NORTHERN FRANCE LAST SPRING.— Inter- 

 national Film Servi-e. 



she said, standing erect as a soldier 

 beside the general's table. "I have 

 ridden these many miles while a doz- 

 en of the enemy have been kept at 

 bay so I might bear it." 



When she gave Washington the 

 message he sprang from his seat and 

 laid his fatherly Land upon her 

 shoulder. 



"The little Quaker maid has saved 

 us," he said, and his voice rang while 

 he looked deep into her gray eyes, 



lighted with honest loyalty. 



"I brought the message only as 1 

 was directed, sir," she said. "It was 

 my bees that saved their country." 



You can imagine Washington's sur- 

 prise and that of his officers who 

 crowded in with warm praise for the 

 girl, when Charity told them of the 

 story of the patriotic bees. 



Washington laughed. "It is well 

 done, Little Miss Crabtree," he cried, 

 warmly. "Neither you nor your bees 

 shall be forgotten when our country 

 is at peace again. It was the cack- 

 ling geese that saved Rome, but the 

 bees have saved America." 



SHE THREu' THE STICK FULL FORCE AT HER PURSUERS. 



Protection of Small Apiaries 



By A. F. Bonney. 



I READ that there are 15,000 tons 

 of corrugated paper made daily 

 in the United States, and after 

 being made into shipping boxes and 

 other things probably ninety per cent 

 of it is wasted by being thrown out 

 or burned. 



Needing some protection for my 

 supers in my method of demareeing, 

 I conceived the idea of utilizing this 

 stuff, and finally evolved the follow- 

 ing plan : 



Make a form of soft pine lumber 

 half an inch longer and wider than a 

 Langstroth hive and eleven (11) 

 inches deep. This need not be closed 

 on the bottom. I say soft pine, as 

 nails are to be driven into it and 

 pulled out. 



Having cut apart corrugated paper 

 packing boxes, which any store- 

 keeper will give for the asking, cover 

 the top of the form with pieces 

 which will come to the edges, hold- 

 ing them in place with lath (not ce- 

 ment) nails, and then treat the sides 

 the same way. Next cover all cracks 

 with strips of tough brown paper, 

 while cloth will be rather better for 



