.Tim;, 1919 



GT, EANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



trance. "And that's how beekeepers play 

 a pretty trk-k on thoni," Anne explained 

 enthnsiastieally. ' ' You see they go by ex- 

 act location, so when they come back th&y 

 come to the ohl stand and go into anything 

 that's there. And now — " 



Carefully, with slim young lingers she 

 picked up the queen she had been watching, 

 holding her by the wing, and set her down 

 in the entrance where the bees were so 

 steadily marching in. And she ran in with 

 the rest. Taking the queen-excluder off the 

 old hive, Anne put it on the new one and 

 told Theodore to set the super on top and 

 cover it. 



"Now!" she exclaimed. "You have a 

 hapi^y swarm, Theodore. They found their 

 queen all safe at home, and somehow, at the 

 same time, that home is changed to just 

 what they wanted when they started out — 

 all emptv and roomy and ready for a new 

 start." 



' ' I must say those sheets of beeswax, or 

 whatever you call it — yes, foundation — 

 don 't look particularly homelike to yours 

 truly. ' ' 



' ' Oh they '11 draw that out into comb in a 

 hurry, and in a few days the queen will be 

 laying in it. In the meantime, they'll carry 

 the honey right up into the super. You 

 ought to get some more hives and supers and 

 things right away. ' ' 



"They're ordered all right, and will prob- 

 ably be here in a day or two. What do we 

 do with this other hive they came out of?" 



"Put it wherever you want it to stay," 

 Anne answered. 



Theodore placed the old hive in a new lo- 

 cation. Then Anne opened it. Lifting out 

 the combs, one after the other, she showed 

 him the queen-cells. ' ' See these queer long 

 cells, Theodore? The books say they look 

 like peanuts. Well, there 's a baby queen in 

 each one, waiting to come into her own. 

 When this hive got so crowded that the old 

 queen and part of the workers decided to 

 move out, they made these cells and the 

 queen laid in them. That's how they pro- 

 vide for unbroken royal succession. ' ' 



She started cutting them out. 



"Why ruin their well-made plans?" ask- 

 ed Theodore. 



' ' No use letting so many hatch out. They 

 might swarm again and you don 't want 

 that." 



"How do you know I don't? I want lots 

 of things I don't get." 



"Well you're not allowed to want secon- 

 dary swarms — the books say you don 't — and 

 so does Daddy Lowe." 



"Who?" darkly. 



' ' Mr. Lowe. And he comes pretty near 

 knowing," she added, cutting out another 

 cell, and so not seeing Theodore's expres- 

 sion. "He's been keeping bees for nearly 

 fifty years. And he certainly is a dear. ' ' 



She lifted out another comb. "Here's a 



nice, big, good-looking cell," she remarked 

 thoughtfully. "I'm going to leave just this 

 one, and cut out all the rest." 



"Is young Lowe a beekeeper too?" 



"Jack? They say he doesn't care much 

 for bees." She closed the hive. "Now 

 you have two colonies where this morning 

 you had only one," she said. "That's fine; 

 tho they say you won 't get so much honey 

 this way. That's one reason beekeepers try 

 not to let their bees swarm. Daddy Lowe 

 cuts out cells every week or ten days to pre- 

 vent swarming, but from what I've read 

 maybe I'd do differently. Anyway I'm mak- 

 ing increase a way he never has, and I'm 

 as proud as Punch. ' ' 



"Are there other ways besides this 

 swarming way ? " 



Anne sighed gustily. "Beekeeping," she 

 announced impressively, "is like what Kip- 

 ling 's Neolithic gentleman said about song 

 writing. Remember? 



" ' There are nine and sixty ways 

 Of oonstructing tribal lays, 

 And-every-singlerone-of-them-is-right.' 



"But the way I'm doing (I'm trying ten 

 colonies) — well, I raised the brood to a third 

 story last month, leaving one comb of brood 

 with the queen down below the excluder; 

 then a second story of empty combs. The 

 next day I gave each top story a nice sealed 

 cell from a colony that swarmed in spite of 

 us. I propped the back corners of these 

 third stories up on little sticks, so after the 

 queens emerged they could get out for their 

 flights. And now most of them are laying 

 up there just as comfy as can be; and when 

 they've filled their hives with brood, I can 

 set them off and have ten nice new colonies. 

 Tho probably there won't be ten, cause may- 

 be some of them won 't work out just right. ' ' 



"Did you catch your swarm all right?" 

 asked a girlish voice. Anne and Theodore 

 turned. There stood a parasoled vision of 

 dainty young femininity, in cool and frilly 

 white, with a half-blown rose in her hair — 

 the only daughter of the Clark home. 



' ' Yes, thank you, ' ' answered Theodore, 

 removing his hat to perform the necessary 

 introduction. ' ' Tho it was really Miss Les- 

 ter who saved the day — and the swarm. ' ' 



There followed a 'few minutes of polite 

 conversation; then Theodore helped Anne 

 into the car and they started back. ' ' Oh 

 Theodore," groaned Anne mischievously, 

 ' ' what a contrast we did present. Miss 

 Katherine Clark and I — I in my work togs 

 and she in her primpies! But isn't she 

 sweet! " 



"Yes," he agreed, apparently reluctantly, 

 ' ' she really is. And she wasn 't exactly 

 primped up, either. She 's about like that 

 most of the time." 



Anne smiled. Then she talked about her 

 brother the rest of the way home. 



