January, 1912 



Volume Lll. No. 1 



N^^S^% 



>AN 241912 

 ..'•rioultAcal 





The Oldest Bee-Paper in America 



ARTHUR C. MILLER 



I am a native of Rhode Island, from old colonial stock 

 of Scotch and English origin, variously mixed up with the 

 usual compound of notables and nobodies, and, again, as 

 usual, mostly the latter. I began my career in 1802, and have 



been banking— a business of the followers of which Car- 

 negie is reported to have said, " When a man is good for 

 nothing else make a bank clerk of him." 



I bought my first bee in February, 1880, and made the 

 violent acquaintance of several of her on the first sunny day. 

 I had no one to tell me what not to do, and a few books 

 which told me of too many things to do, and I did 'em, or 

 tried to when the bees didn't object too hard. 



By 1890 I had begun to find I must forget some of the 

 wonderful things I knew about them, and have been forget- 

 ting ever since. In fact, so wonderful has been the devel- 

 opment of my forgetting that it keeps me in hot water most 

 of the time. Ask my family. 



I took a start one day towards finding out how many 

 things were not what they were said to be. Bad business. 

 Take my advice and don't try it. It is too mean to the other 

 fellow. And it is worse than the drink habit, for once 

 started one can never stop till the wheels cease to move. 

 And such a headache! 



Of late years the bee-study has been a race between the 

 commercial and the scientific sides, with first one and then 

 the other ahead, and just now they are running neck and 

 neck. This sounds good so long as the family does not 

 mix in, but, then, children always do spoil a good story for 

 the sake of facts. Why, one of my boys says that I can 

 never see a colony piling up a goodly store but I rush and 

 open them to sec what ails them! Now, what do you think 

 of that! Arthur C.Miller. 



Providence, R. I. 



WHEN THE BEES ARE IN THE CELLAR 



There are times the hopeful bee-man is a feelin' mighty fine. 

 With the work of all the season comin' nicely into line; 

 With a storm in Old November fiUin' out the seasons' plan — 

 When the bees are in the cellar and the honey's in the can. 



.■^KrnrR C. Miller. 



been careering ever since. Not a little of my boyhood was 

 spent on an ancestral farm in central Vermont, and it was 

 from an old-fashioned bee-house with its rows of box-hives 

 and black bees that I got my first love for the little insects. 

 I was educated in private and public schools, and fitted 

 for college, but went into business life instead, which seems 

 now to have been a mistake. Most of the business life has 



There's a roarin' and a buzzin' when the hives are carried in; 

 But they soon become as quiet as the apples in the bin; 

 Then a peaceful satisfaction comes to cheer the honey-man— 

 When the bees are in the cellar and the honey's in the can. 



There are blessings that are ours, that some others never know; 

 Honey-bees, and birds, and flowers, grace our pathway as we go; 

 And the seasons' culmination bringing rest to all the clan— 

 When the bees are in the cellar and the honey's in the can. 



Bridgeport. Wis. 



Harry Lathrop. 



