American l^ee Journal 



creased 50 percent and more, and the 

 honey crop was "jnst taken along as a 

 side-line." The reason of our exten- 

 sive increase each year is because we 

 have to about double our output each 



Scholl's Favorite for Bulk-Comb Honey 

 —THE Divisible Hive. 



year to meet the increasing demand for 

 our product — " bulk comb honey." 



Four years ago, 7000 pounds was our 

 largest output up to that time, and we 

 thought it an enormously big crop (for 

 an enthusiastic, young, extensive bee- 

 keeper, of course). The following year 

 it was 20,000 pounds, and the demand 

 far e.xceeded the supply. This was fol- 

 lowed by over 61,000 pounds last year, 

 with a demand over the supply amount- 

 ing to 6 or 7 carloads more. What the 

 total output will be this year we can 

 not yet say, but we have more than 

 doubled our number of colonies by in- 

 crease and buying, that we had last year. 



This only shows how one can grow 

 into a business, and, also, i/iai bulk- 

 comb honey production is a success. 



How Bulk-Comb Honey Production Looks 

 in the Apiaries 



The accompanying pictures will give 

 the reader an idea of how it looks to 

 have a large crop of bulk-comb honey 

 " stacked up " on the hives in the api- 

 aries. These " snaps " were taken at 

 idifferent times and in different places, 

 just before the first supers were being 

 removed. Several of the yards, where 

 the honey-flow was the best, averaged 

 (i supers to the hive of finished product. 

 At one of the yards all the honey was 

 left on until after the honey-flow, and 

 it was a sight worth seeing. While a 

 few colonies only had 2 and 3 supers 

 on them, the greater part averaged (i 



supers, and many 7, while some had 8 

 supers. The yard averaged ISO pounds 

 per colony of all comb honey, which 

 sold at an average of 12 cents per 

 pound. 



You will notice that the divisible- 

 brood-chamber hives, and the same 

 kind of shallow supers, are in evidence 

 in all the pictures. This is not only my 



favorite, but it is the best hive and su- 

 per arrangement that I know of for 

 bulk-comb honey production. 



The outside of the hives look well 

 enough in the pictures, especially if 

 you can draw on your imagination a 

 bit as to what mifflit be inside of those 

 " stacks !" 



Next month I'll show you the inside. 



Contributed Articles 



The Strange Season of 1910 



BY HON. EUGENE SecOR. 



Was it Isaac Watts who wrote some- 

 thing like the following lines — a poem 

 more familiar to the last generation 

 than to this hurrying, scurrying age ? 



Judtie not the Lord by feeble sense, 



But trust him for his grace; 

 Behind a frowning cloud he liides 



An ever-sniiling face. 



At any rate, that fact has been again 

 demonstrated this verj' season. What 

 looked like the blackness of despair 

 has been turned to golden fruition so 

 far as bee-keepers in this bailiwick is 

 concerned. 



Tliis has been an abnormal year. 

 Nothing like it is remembered by the 

 oldest inhabitant. 



Nineteen-ten will long be referred to 

 as a freaky season, and I reckon that in 

 the next generation fathers will regale 

 their children with stories of the olden 

 time when March and April changed 

 places, and when the apple-blossoms 

 were frozen as stifle as wa.x flowers ; 

 when pie-plant a foot high lopped over 

 and gave up the ghost; when box- 

 elders, white elms, and soft maples 



light underwear, and had gone off on 

 his summer vacation ! 



But you can't always tell what that 

 captivating maiden called " Sunny Al- 

 berta " has up her sleeve. She's a co- 

 quette. She likes to make us believe 

 she loves us when she's flirting with 

 the other fellow. When we had taken 

 her at her word and had donned our 

 most beautiful garments, she turned 

 the cold shoulder, and with a counte- 

 nance that froze the very marrow in 

 our bones she said she never loved us. 

 Worse than that, she let loose the co- 

 horts of her lover Frost King, and tried 

 to compass our ruin. The battle was 

 short but furious. Dead hopes lay 

 thick upon the field. We cried out in 

 our childish way, "The day is lost! 

 Everything is gone !" 



The basswood's tender shoots shriv- 

 eled and fell, and even the hardy clover 

 leaves wilted and looked like the 

 blackened corpses of their former 

 selves. Apples, plums and cherries 

 were in full bloom, or had started fruit, 

 and the bees had been reveling in un- 

 seasonable lu.xury. But instead of 

 elysian beauty the wreckage of heaven 

 lay about us like a pall after the blast 

 from the regions of perpetual snow. 



A Bunch of Sriioi.i.'s .Stacks of Delicious Sweetness. 



were caught flinging their banners to 

 the breeze, inviting to the feast the 

 bees ; when the willows, cottonwoods 

 and all the hardy race of early-leafing 

 shrubs and perennials put out their 

 tender shoots early in April, just as 

 though Jack Frost had gone out of 

 business, shaven off his beard, put on 



What fools we mortals be! How 

 short-sighted is the mortal vision? In 

 30 days Nature had mercifully covered 

 up the dead by a new growth that 

 looked fresher and greener than the 

 first. Many plants — grapes for exam- 

 ple — put out blossoms and formed fruit 

 on the second growth. Strawberries, 



