1889 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



337 



was late in the day to examine bees, but we would 

 try not to rouse them too much. Mr. McL. sat 

 down on the wheelbarrow and said his bees were 

 very gentle, and told us to go ahead. 



Upon opening the hive, it was evident, from the 

 way things were glued, that the combs were seldom 

 manipulated. A good amount of smoke enabled us 

 (Nig and I) to get out the frames, make various ex- 

 planations, and answer a whole volley of questions. 

 The queen was luckily soon found and exhibited; 

 also drones and drone comb, queen-cells, etc. It 

 was solid interest all around us. The baby crowed, 

 and the hired girl's opinion of us seemed to be on 

 the rise as she beamed on us around the corner of 

 the house. 



The Rambler forgot he was the principal actor in 

 a swa-ree, when, owing to a defective stand, the 

 hive gave a lurch and slid partly to the ground, 

 grinding up a few bees and making the rest mad; 

 and from a vigorous remark from Mr. McL , as he 

 went over backward on the wheelbarrow, with dog 

 and boy mixed up with him, we judged the swa-ree 

 had just commenced in dead earnest. The Ram- 

 bler got his head into a grapevine, and secured a 

 position to view the scene. The shouting, running, 

 squalling, and kicking, " beggars description." Let 

 me give you a faint idea with the pencil. The Ram- 

 bler is now up on the swa-ree question, and is open 

 for engagements. 



A SWA-REE. 



After the field was clear, things were righ'ed and 

 all unanimously voted, that, next to dynamite 

 bombs, a swarm of bees could get up the liveliest 

 kind of a swa-ree. 



I found many things Of interest with Mr. McL. 

 He was enthusiastic on button-ball honey. The 

 marshes on the lake, to the extent of thousands of 

 acres, are covered with this bush, and a great 

 amount of honey seems to be secreted. Quantities 

 of basswood are also near by, and bees work here 

 by moonlight when the flow is profuse. 



Mr. McL.'s few colonies were wintered in a por- 

 tion of his barn. A room on the north side, under 

 the evergreens, was sawdust packed, and was a 

 success. The Rambler has noticed that, whenever 

 bees have been wintered in a room on the north 

 side of a building, be it barn or dwelling, they usu- 

 ally winter well. The temperature does not change 

 so much as when the exposure is to the south 

 and to the sun. 



Our ramble soon came to an end with Mr. McL. 

 and his family; and as we bade them good-by we 

 (Nig and I) little thought we should see them no 

 more. A few months after, we regretted to Jearp 



that they had all emigrated to Kansas. That so 

 many of our enterprising men and bright families 

 are leaving our midst for the West is many times 

 looked upon with regret by the Rambler. 



Very good, friend Bambler ; but I have 

 a little fault to find with you this time, 

 as usual. Perhaps it is quite clear to the 

 rest of the brethren, but I confess I have 

 not caught on just yet so as to know what 

 " swa-ree " means, if it means a little talk 

 on bee culture, why do the folks call it 

 swa-ree? No wonder our good Catholic 

 friend thought it meant something about 

 swearing. It seems to me that friend McL. 

 is a little heedless about the stands to his 

 hives. I have heard certain folks tell about 

 people who were so awkward that they 

 would fall down while standing still ; but I 

 never heard of a bee-hive so badly perched 

 on its stand as to keel over. Why doesn't 

 he have stands made the way I have recom- 

 mended in my reply to Dr. Miller on the 

 preceding page? Another thing, you did 

 not show us in the picture any of the rocks 

 and terraces that you refer to. 



THE VALUE OP EMPTY COMBS 



DURING A RUSH OF NECTAR. 



T WANT to tell the readers of Gleanings that I 

 M never realized the use of store combs as fully 

 W as last season. It will be long remembered by 

 ■*• the bee-keepers of central Iowa as one of the 

 poorest seasons for many years. All through 

 June, July, and the fore part of August, when we 

 usually have our heaviest yield, in vain did the lit- 

 tle busy workers search from morning till night for 

 the coveted sweet. It was not to be found. About 

 the 15th of August the beekeepers in these parts 

 began to wear very long faces, and in their " visions 

 and dreams " they were haunted by the thoughts of 

 lean purses and unpaid grocery bills, and more espe- 

 cially by the thought of feeding a large amount of 

 high-priced sugar or see the bees starve. It was 

 about the 15th or 18th of August that I carried my 

 trouble to my good wife— a source from which I 

 very often get relief. Said I, "What in the world 

 am I to do? Here it is the middle of August, and 

 no honey. I am pretty sure we shall have to feed 

 all the bees in the fall to save them through the 

 winter." 



Said she, " What can you do? I am sure it will not 

 help matters to worry; and, besides, we may have 

 some honey weather yet; but if not, we shall have 

 to submit." 



Of course, I took this as being excellent advice; 

 but when I walked away I felt pretty sure it was too 

 late in the season for any surplus. Two days later 

 I was walking down the path in the direction of the 

 barn, expecting to assist a neighbor to thrash; but 

 when opposite the api;iry I heard a certain roaring 

 sound in the air that the experienced apiaribt at 

 once knows to mean a boom on honey. My olfac- 

 tories in the mean time also took in whiffs of the 

 exquisite aroma of the coveted nectar (of course, 

 that neighbor lost the use of one hand that day). 

 Instantly all hands were engaged in putting on top 

 hives and store combs to all colonies that seemed 

 strong enough to store surplus. In just 24 days 

 there was 1000 pounds put into the store combs, 



