1887" 



GLEANINGS m BEE CULTURE. 



907 



py^EIiF MB PY ]\[EIGpB0I^g 



OUK NEIGHBORS IN THE LARGE CITIES ; 



THE N. A. H. :\. ASSOCIATION IN 



CHICAGO. 



I N the moriiiiig of Nov. IB I made my* 

 I*>1 way to the Conimeicial Hotel. In re- 

 sponse to the question, if that was the 

 phiee where the bee-keepers met, the 

 clerk nodded, and a bee-man behind 

 my back made himself known ; and pretty 

 soon I began to feel a little at home in talk- 

 ing with our correspondent J. A. Green, of 

 Dayton, 111. F'riend (J. signified his desire 

 to go along with me wiien I went out on my 

 raids to find greenhouses, etc.; and before 

 long I felt glad he had d(me so. Pretty soon 

 Dr. Miller, president of the association, 

 made his appearance, and then there were 

 lots of bee-friends to shake hands with. 

 While this was going on. Dr. Miller 

 brought forward an ordinary-looking indi- 

 vidual, with the woi'ds, " Here is just your 

 man, A. I. Root ; he will tell all about it.'' 

 And then Dr. Miller was hurried otT to look 

 after something else in regard to the inter- 

 ests of the convention, which was to open 

 soon. The individual just referred to com- 

 menced asking questions ; and I answered 

 as well as I could between times, while I 

 was shaking hands and making neighborly 

 replies to the many neighbors who were in- 

 quiring for A. I. Root. They knew me, 

 even if I did not know them. Well, after I 

 got through answering questions for the 

 stranger I forgot all about it ; and. in fact, 

 so many were talking to me, and shaking 

 hands, it would be strange if some of my 

 answers were not a little disconnected and 

 a little out of the way. Imagine my sur- 

 prise on finding the following in the Chicago 

 Bailif Mail next morning, even before day- 

 light : 



BEES AND BOGUS HONEY. 



THE FORMER DISCUSSED BY THEIR BREED- 

 ERS IN CONVENTION AT THE COM- 

 MERCIAL. 



MANUFACTUKING IMITATION COMBS A FAILURE, 

 AS IS CHEATING THE INSECTS WITH GLU- 

 COSE OR SYRUP. 



Tlie bee-keepers of North America, who are meet- 

 ing: in the ladies' ordinary of the Commercial Hotel, 

 are mighty clever people. They all seom to be wide- 

 awake, and they make one think it's Sunday — not 

 Sunday in Chicafro, but Sunday in the old white 

 meetin'-house. "jist acrost the crick over yander, 

 fornenst Hankses schoolhouse." They've all got 

 their store-clothes on, and have a Sunday, clean- 

 shaved upper lip, and their collars and shirts are 

 snowy white — ^lossless and spotless like the newly 

 fallen snow; not the yellowish, shiny thing-s town 

 laundries send home Saturday night. 



Then they all seem to have that handiness with 

 tools that was once thecharacteristic of .Vmericans, 

 but which is fast disappearing with the march of 

 progress. They've all got that knack of making- 

 things, and they look at the new wrinkles in bee- 

 hives with a keen appreciation of every bit of in- 

 genious contrivance, and say, with a kindly sort of 

 envy,"GoshI why didn't 7 thinkof thati i)od burn 

 it all, ain't that cute'r"' 



Then there were combs of delicious-looking 

 honey, and one's mouth watered as he thought of 

 how a piece of hot light bi-ead, spread with sweet 

 butter and then some ot that comb honey. 



crushed down on it and spread over in iinc\'en 

 hillocks ot lusciousness, would taste! 



Then there were golden cups of pure extracted 

 honey, some from the tiny iiectartubes of the 

 heads of white clover that scent the wide country- 

 side in the sweet .lune weather, and some of a 

 deeper yellow clarity from the l^ass wood bloom, 

 where the bees hang back and tight for the 

 sweets. 



There was one man there with a visored fur 

 cap on, pushed back on his head, with strong 

 wrinkles around his eyes because he has laughed 

 so much all his life, and an even white set of 

 teeth. 



These old bee-keepers would walk up to him 

 and ask: "Are you A. I. Root'/ " 



'• Yep." 



" Well, howdy?" and the bee-keeper would jerk 

 him by the hand with such fervor that one 

 feai'ed in the e.vuberance of his cordiality he 

 would pull Mr. Hoot's arm f)ut of the socket. But 

 they never did. 



Mr. Root is the proprietor of the largest manu- 

 factory of bee-keepers' supplies in the world. 



To him a reporter for The Miiii said : 



"Do you have much trouble in competing with 

 adulterated or artificial honey'/" 



" Artillcial honey I My boy, did you ever eat 

 anj' artificial strawberries or manufactured eggs ? 

 They used to say that they had got eggs manu- 

 factured so that they would hatch out, but that 

 the chicks had no feathers. And the newspapers 

 had all sorts of pretty yarns about comb honey 

 being manufactured. I have offered a prize of 

 $liHl;l for a piece of comb honey artificially man- 

 ufactured; but, although the offer has been stand- 

 ing several yeai-s. the flUOO is still there and our 

 Hag still floats. The strongest proof of this state- 

 ment of mine is attorded by the present honey 

 market. The drought ot last summer has very 

 much diminished the honey crop. Here was 

 the opportunity of the honey-manufacturer. VVhy 

 didn't he improve it ? Simply because comb 

 honey can't bo made by man, but only by bees. 

 About every attempt to adulterate extracted honey 

 with glucose and sugar has been a financial failure 

 too. and lam glad of it. A fraud ought to fail." 



" Well, suppose the flowers don't bloom in the 

 spring, and the bee-keeper puts out pans of sugar 

 and syrups'/ " 



'• If he does, there will be sugar in the comb, not 

 honey. Bees near a sorghum-factory will hav^e sor- 

 ghum molasses intheir comb, and the peculiar twang- 

 is distinctly perceptible. Why, I knew where a 

 man put out syrup for his bees, and in the making 

 it was scorched a little. The honey tasted like 

 scorched sugar, and that was all it was. 



" The market is all cleaned up of old inferior 

 stock, and those who by careful attention have a 

 good crop have come out first rate." 



"The heaviest crop of honey I ever had," said Dr. 

 -C. C. Miller, who is the president of the association, 

 " was 1(5,549 pounds, and as nearly as I can estimate 

 it took about seven million bees to make it for me." 



This ho said .iust a little while before he took the 

 chair and called the meeting to order. He is a 

 sturdy, strong, bisr-boned man, with a sijuare, rug- 

 ged lace, and a strong beard that spreads out like 

 that of Moses in the big illustrated family Bible. 

 His upper lip is shaven smooth; and if he were 

 not known to be a bee-keeper he might be taken for 

 a presiding elder, or at least a local e.xhorter. The 

 good man bsgan the convention by offering up a 

 short prayer to the Almightj-. 



Then he settled back in his chair, and said: " The 

 secretary will now read the meetings of the last 

 minute." 



Then there was silence in the room for the space 

 of a minute, when a bright-eyed old gentleman 

 from Joe Daviess County saw the ioke and smiled. 

 Dr. Miller saw it too, and said: " Well, as mv little 

 boy says, ' I made up a blunder,' didn't I '/ Now, in 

 order to choke of the secretary, as you've all read 

 the reports of last year's proceedings, it will be in 

 o-der to move the suspension of their reading." 



This was done, amid the blank looks of the secre- 

 tary. 



Now, friends, inasmuch as the American 

 Bee Journal contains a full report of pretty 

 much all the jiroceedings of the convention, 

 I do not propose to give them here. I hope 

 the greater part of our readers are taking 



