November, 1914. 



379 



American Bee Jonrnalj 



The Villa Visconti. from the Highway — Photograph by Count Visconti) 



world, if I noted correctly what he 

 said to me. He handles at retail some 

 40,000 pounds of honey annually. But 

 his location is excellent, in the heart of 

 that big city. He sells mostly extracted 

 honey, in glass jars of different sizes, 

 and a little honey in combs about 8x12 

 inches. 



The pound sections are practically 

 unknown. The price obtained is about 

 30 cents per pound for best honey in 

 .small jars, jars thrown in. He called 

 my attention to the fact that the State 

 revenue tax on sugar is so large that 

 this commodity costs about 14 cents 

 per pound. But a long established 

 business and his own confidence in the 

 purity of the honey he handles have 

 most to do with his successful sales. 



The motto carried on the goods sold 

 there was first devised by Count Vis- 

 conti, some 4-5 years ago, for the Ital- 

 ian bee, and was the watchword of 

 " L'.\picoltore " for years : " II mio non 

 sol ma I'altrui ben procuro." (I do 

 good not to myself alone but to others.) 

 A parody of this was devised byThos. 

 G. Newmanas follows: " Our toil doth 

 sweeten others." 



Another beekeeper whom we met in 

 Milan, Plana, of Plana Brothers (not 

 to be confounded with Gaetano Piana, 

 whom we met later), living near No- 

 vara, 30 miles west of Milan, is a queen- 

 breeder following the Phillips method 



of queen-rearing. They are large 

 honey-producers, mainly from locust, 

 gathered in May. The sample he 

 showed me was of the color of olive 

 oil, a little darker than clover honey. 

 Their bees winter on the heather, and 

 they never have winter losses because 

 of the mildness of the winter. This is 

 true of all Italy. 



Of course, we had doffed our winter 

 suits and our " top coats," as the Eng- 

 lish call them, as soon as we passed 

 the Alps, and we had sunshine that felt 

 for all the world like the sunshine of 

 Illinois. But there was no danger of 

 mistaking this part of the world for 

 Illinois, even with our eyes shut, for 

 the sweet sounds of the Italian tongue 

 resounded everywhere, and neither the 

 houses, the streets, the monuments, the 

 girdens, the trees, the fences, nor the 

 crops, looked like anything American. 



The streets are as clean in Milan as 

 in Geneva. But some of the methods 

 of cleaning are peculiar. We saw a 

 little boy, with an iron pail and a dust- 

 pan, gathering horse manure on the 

 street for somebody's garden. He 

 pushed it on the pan with his fingers 

 and wiped them on his trousers after- 

 wards How will that do for local 

 color ? And remember, dear readers, 

 that this magazine goes to some of the 

 Italian beekeepers, so we dare not tell 

 any fibs. 



Contributed 



Articles^ 



The Life of a Bee Inspector- 

 Opening Hives 



BY F. DUNUAS TODD. 



THE readers of bee journals are the 

 fliic of the occupation, interested 

 in their work or their hobby, as 

 the case may be. They house their 

 bees in well constructed hives and 

 take special pride in having well made 

 movable combs. In about a minute 

 they can whip off the cover of a hive, 

 pick out a frame, run a glance over it 

 to learn its condition, and then just as 

 quickly replace it in the brood-chamber. 

 The men they fraternize with are like- 



minded, so they naturally assume that 

 all beekeepers are just as methodical 

 and careful in their habits. 



Now here are the facts : The average 

 keeper of bees is not a beekeeper at all. 

 Like most of us he tumbled into bee- 

 keeping, and he still lies in the hole. 

 Somebody wished a swarm on him, or 

 he saw one clustering on a branch, 

 and obeying the primitive hunting in- 

 stinct he gathered it in, housing it in 

 the handiest box or nail keg that hap- 

 pened to be around, and it is there to 

 this day. Furthermore, there are about 

 a dozen more like unto it. Once in a 

 while he gets ambitious enough to own 

 frames, and I have seen them with top- 



bars ranging from half an inch to three 

 inches in width. Then the beeman 

 will wonder why the bees do not have 

 sense enough to keep to the middle of 

 the bar. 



Frames without starters, non-spacing 

 frames jumbled to one side of the hive 

 or hanging askew, bars made from 

 lathing, frames from the same material 

 and standing on the bottom-board; 

 these things are more the rule than the 

 exception. Bees are to be found in 

 soap boxes, fruit boxes — these with 

 quarter inch seams on the roof open 

 to the rains of lieaven ; nail kegs less 

 than a foot high, with a couple of half 

 inch holes to do duty as entrance, tea 

 chests, and — but why prolong the list ? 



By way of variety, I will ask the 

 Editor to reproduce a photograph of 

 one of the most original apiaries I 

 have come across. It belongs to a 

 Chinese stoiekeeper in one of our coal 

 mining districts, and is located under 

 the ceiling of the front porch of his 

 store. I was introduced to this child 

 of the orient as, "Heap big govern- 

 ment man ; heap savey bees," and he 

 was at once as childlike and bland as 

 any Chinaman famed in rhyme. We 

 got along famously. For inspection 

 purposes he loosened the wire fasten- 

 ings of the box, and with a pole pushed 

 up the lid. Questioned as to whether 

 he got any honey he said, " Oh, yes." I 

 asked why one colony had died ?" He 

 said, " Oh, catch him honey with a 

 knife, bees not likee ; fly away." This 

 with a sweeping motion of the hands 

 that pictured a general flight into parts 

 unknown. I have three other Chinese 

 beekeepers on my list, and all I can 

 say about them is that they are just as 

 successful as the average white man, 

 and in saying this I am not throwing 

 bouquets at anybody. 



The very first apiary I tackled nearly 

 did for me, but in the long run I was 

 glad I met it first, for in its two dozen 

 colonies I met about every possible 

 combination of pure cussedness that it 

 is possible for ingenious, or careless, 

 beekeeper to invent. When I was 

 through with the job I felt I could open 

 anything with the possible excention 

 of a burglar proof safe. Old Archi- 

 medes 2000 years ago proudly an- 

 nounced to the worldthat given a lever 

 long enough and a suitable fulcrum he 

 wou'd undertake to move the earth. 

 Good old Archie, you were all right. I 

 often think of you as I face a box of 

 tricks, looking for the point of attack, 

 and the fulcrum. My good right hand 

 holds a first-class lever of the first or- 

 der in the shape of a Root hive tool. It 

 is the only weapon I carry, bi't occa- 

 sionally assisted by a lon\i-bladed knife 

 I have yet to meet the hive whose con- 

 tents I cannot explore, and I certainly 

 have met some that were fearfully and 

 wonderfully made. 



The first hive I tackled was five 

 stories high ; this was about the mid- 

 dle of May. It started off with a regu- 

 lar brood chamber ; then a se( tion 

 super filled with sections. Above the 

 super was a soap box without frames, 

 then came a super without sections, 

 and last of all a super with sections. 

 The cover was of the gable-roof 

 variety with 2inch telescope sides. 

 Between every body were layers of 

 oilcloth, sometimes two or three. Un- 



