128 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CQLTURE. 



Feb. 



carry them clear through until the month of 

 Mav.— The point you make in regard to the 

 saving of stores by wintering in the cellar, 

 even so far south as Missouri, is something 

 worthy of consideration. 



RAMBLE NO. 10. 



THE USE OF A BLACKBOARD TO BEE-KEEPERS, ETC. 



em EFORE starting upon this ramble I wish to 

 Ljr show the fraternity a very handy article to 

 ( ^| have in the apiary. It is no more and no less 

 -™^ than a common blackboard. Now, some one 

 will probably say, " For conscience' sake, 

 are there not enough traps now in the apiary, with- 

 out lugging in a blackboard?" 



Well, friends, let us explain. The hives in every 

 well-regulated apiary are numbered, and have slates 

 or something upon which to keep a record. If you 

 put a record on the slate, of something to be at- 

 tended to in a few hours or a few days, or even 

 weeks, there isn't a bee-keeper having a large apia- 

 ry but will often forget the record. The black- 

 board, if put up in a dry, conspicuous place, any 

 fact placed upon it will be staring at you every 

 time it is passed, and is thus a constant reminder of 

 something to be attended to. Have you discovered 

 a hive that needs more surplus room? If you are 

 not ready just now to accommodate them, chalk it 

 down on the board. Is there a queen to supersede, 

 or have you caged a score of queens that need re- 

 leasing at a certain time, chalk it down. We can 

 not enumerate half of the items that will be put 



^X^- 



THE RAMBLER'S BLACKBOARD. 



upon the board during the season; but, believe the 

 Rambler when he tells you it will save steps and 

 worry, and enable you to do things at just the prop- 

 er time. Try a blackboard. 1 give it to the fra- 

 ternity. The record on our board now reads as 

 seen in this sketch. 



PIGEONS. 



We ramble this time among the bird-fanciers. In 

 our boyhood days, pigeons or doves were common 

 among our best-loved pets; but if any one had ask- 

 ed us, a few months ago, if there was any thing in 

 the life of a pigeon that reminded us of bees, we 

 would have given our head an incredulous shake. 

 A short visit to a fancier gave us many interesting 



facts, and there are many bee-keepers who will be 

 interested in one very curious fact. 



The pigeon is the only bird that feeds its young 

 with digested food. We are all familiar with the 

 method the old pigeon uses to accomplish this, with 

 old and young bills interlocked; and some authori- 

 ties go so far as to say that this food has had two di- 

 gestions—first by the male bird, then by the female. 

 Be this as it may, the effect is remarkable; for the 

 growth of the young pigeon is unequaled by any 

 other family of birds. When hatched, the little pig- 

 eon weighs about half an ounce; in six days it 

 gains to four and one-half ounces; on the ninth 

 day, over eight ounces; and at the age of one 

 month, over twelve ounces, or somewhat heavier 

 than one of its parents. 



While other young birds have to digest the worm, 

 grub, or grain, the pigeon simply grows with no ex- 

 ertion whatever; the pi-epared food is simply ab- 

 sorbed. 



The bee-keeper will readily see that there is 

 much similarity in the life of the young pigeon and 

 young bee in the previous preparation of the food; 

 and if the young pigeon has the benefit of two di- 

 gestions, is there any reason to think that the roy- 

 al jelly in the queen-cell is not the result of many 

 digestions? 



PORCUPINES. 



Our next call was upon an accomplished and suc- 

 cessful poultry-breeder. Miss Kincaid. We wished 

 to investigate a new breed of poultry which was ex- 

 citing the public for miles around, and about which 

 people were indulging in much loose and inflated 

 talk. These fowls were popularly called Porcu- 

 pines. 



The Rambler, upon presenting himself, was 

 somewhat Hustrated, as a modest man always is be- 

 fore beauty and talent; but after a few prelimina- 

 ry remarks about the weather and the crops, I felt 

 entirely at ease, feeling that Miss K. was much like 

 our own folks. In fact, she reminded me of my 

 cousin Flora Jerusha. After stating that my busi- 

 ness was mostly through curiosity to see her won- 

 derful fowls, we adjourned to the neatly arranged 

 poultry-yard; and the sight there presented fully 

 aroused the curiosity of the Rambler. It is said 

 that beauty is only skin deep on human bipeds; 

 and so I suppose it is only feather deep on fowls; 

 if so, then the beauty of the Porcupine fowls lies at 

 the roots of the feathers. Beauty is not distin- 

 guishable on the surface. The prominent noticeable 

 feature in the Porcupines is the position of the 

 feathers, which are somewhat pointed, and stick 

 out at all angles, but mostly toward the head. They 

 are not quite so happy-appearing as other fowls, 

 and the roosters have a dilapidated, disconsolate 

 look. I was assured, however, that the hens were 

 great layers, good sitters, and excellent mothers. 

 Being of only medium size, they were not so well 

 adapted to table use, but the meat was very tender, 

 even to old age. While I was thus being favorably 

 impressed with the fowls, a talkative neighbor 

 came along and gave some more interesting points. 



"Why," said he, "stranger, you can put them 

 right down in a posy-bed, and they won't scratch. 

 You see, if they kick back too far those sharp fea- 

 thers prick their shins, and they stop instanter. 



"Then, stranger, there is another point that 

 shows their intellectual superiority. When they 

 come to a hole in a fence, if their feathers prevent 

 an easy passage head first, they jest turn around 



