NOVEMBER 15, 1912 



735 



pleasure to introduce to the general public 

 a man well known in Connecticut, and es- 

 pecially in Fairfield County, as the most 

 ardent, devoted, and active beekeeper in 

 existence — a man whom I am proud to 

 claim as my jDuijil. In a genealogy of 

 apiolog'ists 1 might perhaps justly include 

 him in the list of Mr. Root's immediate 

 descendants — at least as his apiarian grand- 

 child. 



Mr. E. Vanderwerken was my next-door 

 neighbor when I lived in Stamford, and for 

 several years was generally indifferent to 

 my beekeeijing proclivities as well as to 

 some other things of the kind so dear to 

 a naturalist. Indeed. I thought him of 

 all jieople perhaps the least likely to be- 

 come a student of the bee, and enthusiastic 

 in the subject, because he and his family 

 so strenuously objected to the appearance 

 of my pets on his side of the fence, and 

 above the sidewalk that they must travei'se 

 every day. My apiary was only about 

 fifteen feet from the sidewalk. Indeed, my 

 nearest neighbor's objections became so 

 active that the health officer was sent in 

 to investigate, because they thought there 

 must be some sei'ious trouble at .the lab- 

 oratory, near the apiary, as a mysterious 

 aroma pervaded tlie entire street. This, as 

 has been previously explained to readers 

 of this magazine, Avas in the autumn when 

 t!ie delightful perfume of the goldenrod 

 was very strong. Mr. Vanderwerken and 

 the members of his family now regard such 

 objections as jokes, and the other day he 

 telephoned to say that my henhouse is still 

 next door, meaning that the odor of the 

 nectar gathered by the bees from the gol- 

 denrod is now at its height. 



Some etficient and enthusiastic beekeep- 

 ers date their interest from earliest child- 

 hood ; others, in later life, come gradually 

 into the joys of beekeeping; while still oth- 

 ers are what one may call a sudden con- 

 version with a baptism of sorrow. My 

 pupil is in the latter class. His apiarian 

 baptism consisted of more than a hundred 

 slings, which, I suppose, accounts for his 

 fierce and fiery interest. 



About half way between my home and 

 his (a distance of only a few rods) is an 

 extremel}' tall tree. One day one of my 

 finest swarms made the air black with 

 swiftly glancing lines that moved slowly 

 around the apiary, and upAvard and up- 

 ward, almost to the very top of that tree. 

 There they settled and hung, an alluring, 

 tantalizing attraction, too far up, I decided, 

 for me or any one else on my premises 

 to climb. They remained there for two or 

 three days; and Mr. Vanderwerken, going 



to and from liis office, stopped every morn- 

 ing, noon, and night, to express his regret 

 that so fine a colony should be lost. The 

 third day was drizzly, rainy, foggy, misty 

 — a generally moist and sticky day. It ap- 

 pears to have been a leisure day with Mr. 

 Vanderwerken, because he came and volun- 

 teered to climb that ti'ee if I would supj^ly 

 him with a veil and gloves. I tried to 

 dissuade him, by magnifying the danger, 

 and I assured him that the swarm was not 

 worth the risk; but he seemed to be fas- 

 cinated by an irresistible impulse to cap- 

 ture that colony. Finally we obtained a 

 long ladder, and I furnished him with veil 

 and gloves. The ladder was wet ; the tree 

 was wet ; the bees w^ere wet ; and to say 

 that they were cross is to speak mildly. 

 When he arrived among the branches, the 

 cynosure of many admiring eyes (because 

 the neighbors had gathered to see the per- 

 formance, those bees showed fight, and sent 

 out every warrior in the colony to repel 

 the approaching novice. Neither Mr. Van- 

 derwerken nor any other human being 

 could withstand such an onslaught. The 

 veil was wet ; it stuck to liis face and was 

 useless. He could not even stop to use 

 the ladder, but slid down that tree as 

 hastily as a fireman, awakened by a mid- 

 night alarm, slides down the pole without 

 wasting time on the stairs. It was the 

 most successful instance of attack and re- 

 treat that I have ever seen. Mr. Vander- 

 werken, completely covered with bees, fled 

 into the bush, and there fought with hands 

 and leafy branches to drive away the angry 

 insects. The attack was nearly a fatal one 

 for liim; and I wonder if he realizes, even 

 with his later expert knowledge of bees, 

 just how dangerous it was. He was obliged 

 to remain in bed for a time, until his suf- 

 fering was alleviated. 



But by this very experience an unex- 

 pected result was achieved. He became a 

 beekeeper. It seems as if every sting was 

 a hypodermic dose of enthusiasm, and to 

 this day it remains in his blood. In my 

 experiences with many and various bee- 

 kee]iers I have not known another one so 

 enthusiastic. He began with two or three 

 colonies; he attended conventions; he talked 

 long and constantly about the delights of 

 beekeeping; he buttonholed his friends in 

 the street; he susi)ended work in his office, 

 and the result is that he now possesses 

 one of the finest apiaries that I have ever 

 had the pleasure to see; yet when I first 

 saw it I did not realize its perfection, be- 

 cause visually it is irregular, and mottled 

 and speckled. There were, at my visit, 

 boxes of high and low degree, all sorts and 



