1889 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



251 



line that I believe we are going to be able 

 to enjoy flitting through the air by and by. 

 Our proof-reader suggests another thought. 

 Here in Medina just now it is exceedingly 

 muddy. His thought is this : That it seems 

 to be too bad that man should be compelled 

 to walk through the mud, while even the 

 turkey buzzards tly with such wonderful ease 

 through the air. 



RAMBLE NO. 13. 



AMONG THE MOUNTAINS; RUINING THE HONEY 

 MARKET, ETC. 



" It's all very well for poets to tell, 



By way of their songs adorning, 

 Of milkmaids who rouse to manipulate cows, 



At five o'clock bright in the morning; 

 And of mooney young mowers who bundle outdoors, 



The charm of their straw beds scorning, 

 Before break of clay, to make love and hay. 



At five o'clock bright in the morning.'' 



fHE Rambler considers it very unwise and 

 unhealthy to get up before sunrise. This is 

 an excellent rule to follow in the winter, and 

 it is with regret that we see the days length- 

 en; but "old Sol" is inexorable, and he 

 peeps into our window a little earlier every morn- 

 ing, and bids us arise. It is a noticeable fact, that 

 those people who sleep in church are the ones who 



Get out of bed, their house, and their head. 

 At five o'clock bright in the morning. 



It is far better to take the needed sleep in the 

 morning than to take time for naps during the busy 

 hours of the day. I am led to thus discourse 

 upon early rising because I thought the sun had 

 forgotten to shed its morning beams on the Virgil 

 mansion. Getting tired of waiting, I went out to 

 see about it; and after waiting a little I saw a glo- 

 rious sunrise over that rocky cliff. 



home-made foot-power saw, which showed evi- 

 dences of much hard work. The apiary did not 

 look so bright as it would if more paint had been 

 used, but it was evidently laid out for convenient 

 work; and as the proprietor is after money and no 

 poetical fixings, perhaps it is just as well. If the 

 owner is pleased, the Rambler certainly is. 



The honey-house was a neat little affair, crammed 

 full of implements, and a few crates of very fine 

 honey. Bro. V. keeps up with the times, and pro- 

 duces A No. 1 comb honey, and does not make 

 much effort on extracted honey. Cappings and all 

 pieces of comb are thrown into a barrel, and a 

 heavy maul pounds all into a solid mass, proof 

 against miller-worms, and in time it is rendered 

 into beautiful wax, at which business Mr. V. is an 

 expert. He is also an expert bee-hunter. Several 

 swarms are secured every fall from the surround- 

 ing mountains. Cellar wintering is practiced, and, 

 owing to the lowness and level nature of the land, 

 the water floods the cellar at very inconvenient 

 seasons; and perhaps early in March all hands have 

 to work lively to get the bees out of the cellar to 

 prevent total destruction. Still, Mr. V. has had 

 very good success in wintering. I think I suggest- 

 ed the digging of a cave into that rocky cliff for 

 wintering, which could be easily done. 



After breakfast we struck out for other bee- 

 keepers in the vicinity. 



"HELLO, OLD SOL! IS THAT YOU?" SUNRISE AT 

 MR. VIRGIL'S. 



I found Bro. V.'s headquarters in a small but 

 convenient shop. The most of the work of getting 

 out portions of hives, crates, etc., was done on a 



"IT DON'T PAY; I'M GOING TO NEW-BRASKA." 



Mr. , whom for convenience I will call Jones, 



we found with a score or more of colonies. This 

 man's methods conflicted somewhat with Mr. V.'s. 

 Several bee-keepers in this vicinity find market for 

 their honey in Whitehall, a village of about 4000 in- 

 habitants. Jones lives the nearest, about a mile; 

 and as soon as a few pounds of honey are ready to 

 come off, he trots it into the village and sells it at a 

 remarkably cheap rate, demoralizing the market for 

 those who have a better quality of honey in bet- 

 ter shape. As a result there is any thing but good 

 feeling toward him from those who have honey to 

 sell in the same market. Mr. Jones's bees were 

 mostly in box hives. He loved the bees, and wished 

 he could work with them all the time. Not attain- 

 ing much wealth, he wanted to sell out and go to 

 " New-braska." The disease seemed to have a 

 strong grip on him, and, from Mr. V.'s remarks 

 about what a glorious country is found in the West, 

 I had no doubt but he wished the " New-braska " 

 fever would take his neighbor far away. 



About three miles from Whitehall resides Mr. C. 

 Beckwith, another of those enterprising young 

 men who have tried many things and found much 

 vexation of spirit where, to the imagination, things 



