TMm 3tMERICJRK BE® JOURlfffil^. 



681 



what lie used in all liis apiaries. "I 

 will just change this cover, " said he. 

 removing one from another hive, '-and 

 put it on the one you ai'c about to 

 jjhotograph. As he did so he hap- 

 pened to let it drop on the hive to be 



•Kodaked" — enough so as to stir up 

 the sentinels. , Neither of us had a 

 veil on. I stood at a respectable dis- 

 tance, say six or eight feet, in front of 

 the hive. Mr. Elwood a little in the 

 rear. My Kodak was all primed and 

 readjn just then those pesky hybrids 

 began to pour out like a hailstorm. I 

 wanted to run. Sting — it seemed as if I 

 could not endure to take even a snap 

 shot at those ■•fellows" — or, rather, at 

 their hive. The lirst ont^ planted a 

 sting right on my nose, and, of course. 

 the rest of them saw fit to visit the 

 same vicinity, attracted by the poison. 

 Now. j-ou know I could not stand that. 

 My ever ready veil was in my hip 

 pocket. My eyes were suflnsed with 

 tears, and I hastily laid the Kodak on 

 the ground, whipped out the veil, and 

 drew it over my head in some fashion 

 or other. Somehow or other I felt like 

 running. The veil was pulled over, 

 but those scamps did not stop to buzz 

 in front, but with provoking delibera- 

 tion crawled up under and made thini^s 

 worse. 1 pulled out the Kodak, and 

 said. •' Now or never ;" and while the 

 tears were streaming from 11:3' eyes 

 with pain. I managed to be able to see 

 enough from one eye to get a view of 

 the hive. This time I did not wait, 

 but touched the 'button, and the shot 

 was taken. As I did so 1 looked up to 

 see where my friend Mr. Elwood was. 

 Presently I espied somebody running. 

 and his arms were revolving about his 

 head in a characteristic fashion. 



^ Now, Mr. Elwood is slightly bald- 

 headed, and his hat was gone. As I 

 saw him rub sting after sting out I did 

 not blame him for retreating. I un- 

 derstand from his men that he can 

 stand as many stings without wincing 

 as anybody else ; but it did tickle them 

 to see their big boss run from the bees. 

 One of Mr. Elwood's little boys was 

 heard to cry out lustily about this time, 

 for he was out in the yard bareheaded 

 and barelegged. His father directed 

 him to his mother, and then called 

 out: •• You didn't catch me iu that 

 picture, did you ?" 



"As you were running, I presume I 

 did." I replied ; at least. I was mean 

 enough to say I hoped so. I took time 

 now to rub the .stings out of my nose. 

 It did not swell, however, and after a 

 couple of hours I felt no ill effects. As 

 we started to leave that morning for 

 another ride among bee-keepers with 

 Mr. Elwood. this little boy who had 

 been stung came out to greet us with 

 a good-by. His face was considerably 

 swollen, and it looked as if he had been 



stung by a bee, M}- camera was at- 

 tached fast to tlie bicycle, or I would 

 have been cruel enough to have taken 

 his picture. Mr. Elwood. although 

 stung much worse than I. seemed to 

 show no ill effects. 



In order that wo might visit together. 

 the bicycle was tied on to the wagon, 

 and we started for the home of Mr. 

 Julius Hoffman, by way of the Van 

 Deusens. the people who make that 

 beautiful flat-bottom foundation. We 

 went over some terribly bad hills — hills 

 that I should not care particularly to 

 have gone over with a bicycle ; and I 

 was glad there were some good horses 

 ahead of me that were used to that 

 sort of business. More beautiful scen- 

 ery was presented to rae. and ere long 

 we were overlooking the flat-bottom 

 valley which has been before described 

 by our friend Rambler. 



AT SPROUT BROOK. N. Y. 



In a few moments more we were 

 having a cordial handshaking with the 

 Van Deusens. I did not ask to go 

 through their establishment ; but was 

 shown some of their beautiful founda- 

 tion. They have quite a large factory, 

 and evidently do quite a inisiness. I 

 took particular pains to notice that this 

 country was verj- flat bottomed — an 

 appropriate location for making foun- 

 dation. We were cordially' invited to 

 stay and take dinner; but as my time 

 was limited. I explained that I should 

 have to be moving along. 



AUTUMN. 



Hints About Work in the Apiary 

 ill Autuiu. 



Written for the Country Gentleman 



BY GEO. A. STOCKWELL. 



The bee year is ended. The hum in 

 the hive, musical and delightful al- 

 ways, is softer, subdued, with minor 

 chords in it, for at this season of the 

 3'ear all natural sounds — katydid's 

 rasping, and cricket's cross-leg sawing 

 — have plaintive strains to most minds 

 dwelling upon the luutabilit}- of all 

 things. Certainlj'. to the bee-keeper 

 whose bees have added nothing to his 

 bank account, the low hum of his bees 

 will have a melancholy sound. 



But while the hum grows fainter, 

 the work in the hive goes on as before, 

 anil will continue until autumn flowers 

 fall under the Idight of tlie first frost, 

 for the '•hum of the hive," of which 

 ambitious poets, who were not bee- 

 keepers, evidently, have sung, is con- 

 trolled by the temperature absolutelj*. 



The bee year ends and begins with 

 the flrst frost. Sometimes the new 

 ye.ir, or the preparation for it, begins 



before thi^ old one ends. The success 

 in the new year depends upon the 

 work done in the fall of the old. If 

 colonies be weak from any cause, they 

 must be made strong. Weak colonies 

 in the spring are worthless except to 

 plnj' with, and not satisfactory plaj'- 

 Ihings.then. 



By some means, natural or artificial, 

 the queen nius't bo induced to continue 

 laj'ing as long as possible, for to make 

 progress in the spring, the winter bees 

 should be young bees, and the force 

 large. Old bees going into winter 

 quarters may result in such loss during 

 the winter that the colony will be 

 crippled iu the spring. Having a large 

 force of breeders the queen will begin 

 to lay earlier, and by the time new 

 honey comes the colony is prepared to 

 gather it. and to swarm when it ought 

 to. if at all. Success in bee-keeping 

 depends upon these conditions. 



All work in the colonies should be 

 completed before propolis hardens, 

 that the bees may have opportunitj' to 

 make snug for winter by repairing 

 broken comb, and stopping cracks and 

 chinks with propolis. Assured that 

 the colonies ai'e in good condition 

 numericall}'. and have suflieient stores 

 for the winter and a cold spring, if 

 there should be one. leave them undis- 

 turbed to well-earned quiet and re- 

 pose, to their cups of amber nectar, 

 and to their household duties. 



Beginners should commence now. 

 Bees are cheaper in the fall than in the 

 spring. If you wait until spring, the 

 1st of June may come before the bees 

 arrive, for they cannot be shipped be- 

 fore warm weather. To practice with, 

 and make acquaintance. get gentle Ital- 

 ians or the lazj' and indifferent Car- 

 niolans. 



Providence. R. I. 



A VISIT. 



Mr. Henry Alley's Apiary and 

 metiiods Inveslisated. 



Written tor the American Bee Journal 

 BY E. L. PRATT. 



I called nn Henrj' Alley at Wenham, 

 Mass.. in .September, and was royally 

 entertained by one of the most genial 

 and out-spoken old souls I have met 

 for a long time. 



The first thing I saw when I stepped 

 on the premises was Mr. Alley himself, 

 bnsil}- engaged taking care of a nucleus 

 colony that had swarmed out. 



After walking through the yard 

 among the hundreds of little fertilizing 

 hives and full colonies, we at last 

 came to what he calls his perfect col- 

 ony of Italians. This colony we ex- 

 amined without smoke, as we did sev- 



