452 



THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



July 16, 



box-hive, as to keep bees without the queen trap or cage. I 

 think that the Italian bee is as far superior to the little blacks 

 as a Berkshire hog is to a razor-back ; although I am aware 

 that there are some who prefer the razor-backs and blacks. 



Another excellent and useful implement was "the bee- 

 keepers' staff." I had two made according to the directions 

 in the American Bee Journal— one with a pole 12 feet long 

 and the other 16. Sometimes a queen would get out with the 

 swarm, and they would cluster or settle so I could reach them 

 with the short stafif, and sometimes I would have to use the 

 long one. I remember on one occasion a swarm came out 

 and left. I was very tired, so I thought I would not bother 

 about them. A close neighbor saw them coming, so she ran 

 out beating a pan, and sure enough they settled quite low. 

 She called to me to come and get my bees ; I told her she 

 could have them. "No," said she, "come and get them your- 

 self." I took my short staff, and in a few minutes had them 

 all nicely clustered on it, and brought them home. Just as I 

 was coming down the lane a gentleman, who was coming to 

 the house, saw me with the bees on the staff, and so concluded 

 he had business further up the street, and wouldn't come until 

 he saw that I had them safely in their hive. 



It seems to me that there must be an odor left on the tree 

 where bees settle after swarming, from the fact that so many 

 select the same place upon which to settle. In 1888, 37 

 swarms out of 49 that I had during the season, settled on a 

 gum-elastic tree, at that time about 14 feet high. If it wasn't 

 an odor that caused so many to select not only the same tree, 

 but often the same limb, then I must plead ignorance of the 

 cause. 



I am fully satisfied that on one occasion, if not more, I 

 had bees move eggs, not from one part of the hive to another, 

 but from one hive to another, from which they reared four as 

 nice Italian queens as I ever saw. It was this way : 



I had made a new colony by division, putting in sealed 

 brood with adhering bees in all the frames except one, in 

 which was fresh-laid eggs from which to rear a queen, as I at 

 that time did not happen to have either a queen or queen-cell. 

 At the proper time I looked in and found a nice lot of ripe 

 cells ready to transfer to other hives, which I proceeded to 

 do, of course leaving one. I did not open the hive again for 

 two weeks, and when I did so, I failed to find either the queen 

 or any eggs. I then closed it, as it was late in the evening, 

 intending to give them a queen the next morning, or eggs 

 from which to rear one ; but on the morrow it was raining, 

 and unfavorable weather for several days, so that it was 10 

 days before I again looked in, then intending to give them a 

 queen ; imagine my surprise, upon opening the hive, to find 

 four large, fine queen-cells nearly ready to cap, with not 

 another egg or larvae in the hive. Now, the question is. 

 Where did those eggs come from ? The nearest hive to this 

 one was 12 feet away, and in it were hybrids, and not pure 

 Italians ; so they must have been brought from a colony still 

 farther off, as it does not seem at all reasonable that a queen 

 would have entered this queenless hive and laid only four 

 eggs, and then have left. I have had other cases that I had 

 good reason to believe that the bees moved the eggs, but this 

 one instance is enough to go into the details about. 



I used to feel anxious to see a laying worker depositing 

 her eggs, but I never had that pleasure but once, although I 

 used to be considerably annoyed by this great nuisance. 



The occasion above referred to was inside of one hour 

 after I had removed the queen from my observatory hive. I 

 was very much astonished at this, for I had always thought 

 that it never occurred until the bees were hopelessly queen- 

 less. She went at her work, it seemed to me, rather hur- 

 riedly, depositing from three to seven and eight eggs in each 

 ceil without any apparent system in her work. 



As to clipping queens' wings, I must acknowledge that I 



have but a limited experience, never having clipped more 

 than about a half dozen, all of which were either killed out- 

 right, or balled and superseded in a few weeks. This satis- 

 fled me that I wanted no more such mutilation. Thus ended 

 my clipping experience. 



I failed ever to find a wooden vessel that held honey to 

 my satisfaction. I had two large honey-extractors, one a 

 two and the other a four frame. I sometimes used one in ex- 

 tracting and sometimes the other. The one I kept in my 

 honey-room I used as a receptacle into which I poured the 

 honey after emptying it out of the one in the bee-tent, in 

 which I had extracted it. I then drew it off into five-gallon 

 square kerosene or gasolene cans, two cans in a case. There, 

 there, don't hold up your hands in holy horror, for they were 

 clean, and never so much as a scent about either the cans or 

 cases. How did I clean them ? Well, don't be in such a 

 hurry ; just give me a little time, and I will tell you all about it : 



You see I never had to pay more than 15 cents a piece, 

 and have bought hundreds of them at 5 cents each. I melted 

 the little piece off, always saving the screw-cap, to be replaced 

 after the can had been thoroughly cleaned and filled with 

 honey, and a nice cork put in the opening. After thus open- 

 ing the cans, I usually turned them over to Aunt Rachel (a 

 good old darky), who cleaned them with concentrated lye and 

 boiling water, after which I rinsed them thoroughly in clean 

 hot water, drying them with a clean cloth put inside and 

 tossed around so as to get them dry. I then put a little rag in 

 which was tied a table-spoonful or two of parched ground 

 coffee, and let them air for several days. They were then as 

 nice and clean and free from any unpleasant odor as though 

 they had just come from the tin-shop. I paid Aunt Rachel 5 

 cents each for cleaning them. Thus, you see, they cost me 

 only 10 to 20 cents each when clean. I went to the tin-shop 

 and found that I could not get them made for less than 50 

 cents each — a saving, you see, of from 30 to 40 cents for each 

 can, which, considering the number I have used, would have 

 amounted to a saug little sum. 



The cases were cleaned, aired, and painted with one coat 



of paint, which added considerable to their appearance. 



Bell County, Tex. 

 LTo be continued.] 



Those Questions Asked by Mr. Doolittle. 



BY EMERSON T. ABBOTT. 



On page 324, Mr. Doolittle has asked me a number or 

 questions, the full answer to which would be very much out 

 ef place in this or any other journal of apiculture, but as the 

 questions found their way into these columns, I presume I am 

 expected to make some reply. I will do so briefly. 



" Why do we have to push our interests?" Simply be- 

 cause this is an age of push, and nothing goes without push- 

 ing. I doubt if we are any the worse off for having to push. 

 I have heard a good deal about the good old times when men 

 did not have to push, but I am just enough of an optimist to 

 think these times, taken as a whole, are just about as good as 

 we read about, even though honey did bring 25 cents a pound. 

 I very much doubt if Mr. Doolittle's "me and mine" enjoyed 

 any more real comforts then than they do now. 



" Will Mr. A. tell us why times are close ?" Well, I could 

 tell why I think they are close, but that would open questions 

 which should not be discussed in these columns, therefore I 

 respectfully decline. 



" Does he mean that I have no privilege to share his mar- 

 ket for honey with him ?" No, sir ; you are a long way from 

 my meaning. Society, through the enactments of legislators, 

 has encroached so much on the rights of individuals that I am 

 thoroughly convinced that the time has come when individu- 

 ality should begin to assert itself. The world is every man's 



