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as it were, until the bees would not touch 

 it. Besides, the weather had a bad effect 

 on the bees themselves. They became lazy 

 and out of sorts. They would not leave 

 their hives for any distant flight, and, 

 when disturbed, they would sting with un- 

 usual energy. They accumulated no honey, 

 and, for a living, they used their reserve 

 stock, eating it all, and more than one bee- 

 keeper has had to feed his bees to keep 

 them alive. 



With the blooming of the golden-rod 

 came the bright, warm weather, and it 

 seems that now more than ever the bee 

 " improves each shining hour." The golden- 

 rod contains an unusually fine quality of 

 honey, and in every field where it has ob- 

 tained a foothold, and along every country 

 road, the bees are seen literally covering 

 the bright yellow flower. 



This shows that golden-rod yields 

 honey in Connecticut. 

 Calumet Harbor, Wis. 



The Hoiiey-Bee. 



Written for the American Bee Journal 



BY MRS. FRED GRAHAM. 



Bronze and gold.gauzy wings and merry hum- 

 Watch them how they go and come, 

 Extracting honey from every flower. 

 Working patiently hour hy hour. • 



Do you know they a lesson teach 

 To all who come within their reach- 

 Busy, dainty little bees, 

 That gather honey from flowers and trees ? 



If we improve the time each day. 

 In the end, we will find, 'twill pay ; 

 Taking each duty nearest at hand, 

 We then will be a working band. 



Doing a kindness, cheering a friend. 

 Will pay us always, unto the end. 

 Let each one strive with all his might. 

 To do his work well, and cling to the right 

 Maumee, Ohio. 



APIARY WORK. 



It U No Cliild's Play, but Regu- 

 lar Work. 



Written, for the Prairie Farmer 



BY MKS. L. HARRISON. 



I would as soon l3e stung by a bee 

 as be " bored" by an individual \vho 

 wants to talk bees, and only knows 

 that they ''make honey" and have a 

 terrible sting. I have a neighbor, who 

 several years ago, captured a very 

 large swarm of bees, and they have 

 increased considerably since. This 

 womau wants me to tell her what to 

 do ; and when I offer her books and 

 papers, refuses them, saying, "I have 

 no time to read them." 



Of course she has all the time that 

 there is, and prefers to use it in mak- 

 ing fancy articles to adorn her home 

 and person, rather than in studj'ing 

 bee-culture. When her bees swarm, 

 she wants me to hive them. This I 

 cannot do, for while away hiving her 



bees, I might lose my own ; also to 

 take oft' and put on surplus boxes. She 

 wants the profit derived from keeping 

 bees, but does not want the work of 

 self-denial necessary to it. 



" Good morning, Mrs. Harrison ; 

 I've come to spend the daj' with you, 

 and ask your advice alsout my under- 

 taking to keep bees. I must do some- 

 thing to earn some money, and I've 

 noticed you, as I passed by, working 

 with bees, and thought I might keep 

 tliem, too. Do you ever get stung ?" 



"See here, my friend, I'm a busy, 

 practical woman, and no time to sit 

 down. I've a day's work to do in the 

 honey-house, and if you want to learn 

 about the business, I'll loan you a 

 wrapper and an apron, and you can 

 help. I'm not quite ready to go there 

 yet. Suppose j'ou start the tire in the 

 honey-house ; you will find the kind- 

 ling and coal there, already." 



" I never could build a fire, and it 

 will spoil my hands, so 1 cannot 

 crochet this beautiful white phantom. 

 I do love fancy work, but I make so 

 little money at it." 



'• You may as well know, right now, 

 that bee-keeping is no child's play — 

 plenty of hard work, and, if you 

 choose to make it so, disagreeable. I 

 have lived long enough to learn that 

 every way of earning money has sooner 

 or later its sting. In your fancy work, 

 it's poor pay — you can scarcely earn 

 the water that goes into your soup. 

 You seem to like sitting in an easy 

 chair, with some one to keep fire for 

 you, while you run your fingers 

 through that delicate wool. But the 

 pay, is where the shoe pinches. 



" I am now ready to work in the 

 honey-house, and you can come if you 

 choose. The work that I shall do to- 

 day, is as much a part of running an 

 apiary, as hiving swarms." 



" Can I bring my fancy work and 

 watch you ?" 



' ' No ; you can either help work or 

 stay in the parlor, or go home. It's no 

 place for fancy work. Here is some 

 work that j'ou will be glad to do if 

 you ever keep bees, and that is to re- 

 move these sections from this case — 

 glad that you have honey for your 

 work. Take this wide chisel and 

 scrape ofi' the propolis and comb from 

 top to bottom ; now with this thin- 

 bladed case-knife, loosen the sections 

 from the case all around ; put these 

 two little pieces of pine board on the 

 table for the ends of the case to rest 

 upon, and turn over the case. Take 

 tliis little piece of board, which I call 

 a ' follower,' and lay it across one row 

 of sections, and tap gently with the 

 hammer. 



"Go over every row of sections in 

 this way. Now they are all slipped 

 down into the space made by the little 



sticks. Lift off the case — see ! j'ou was 

 not careful enough ; you let the corner 

 of one section dig a hole into the face 

 of that section, and now it cannot be 

 packed as No. 1, for it will run and 

 daub up a casi^. See, I have made a 

 pan of man ilia paper and fitted into 

 the bottom of this shipping-case. If 

 there should be any drip, the pan 

 catches it, and keeps it from running 

 out of the box and making a dauby 

 mess. Put all the perfect sections in 

 it which will be marked No. 1, and the 

 imperfect ones into that pan, and they 

 will be sold to customers who come 

 here. 



" This is one of the beauties of a 

 home market : all pieces of comb 

 honey like the section you broke just 

 now, are never allowed to accumulate, 

 but are sold for a less price than No. 

 1 sections, to persons who call to buy. 



' ' Scrape off the propolis and bits of 

 comb from the table into this all-metal 

 sieve, and set it over this pan ; I will 

 pour boiling water over it, and put it 

 into the oven. You will be surprised 

 at the pretty, light-colored wax which 

 will run down into the water from this 

 refuse. We must not forget it, or it 

 will run over, as .soon as it boils. 



'•Here it goes, now. I will remove 

 the seive to another pan, and set this 

 out to cool. As the wax is all melted 

 now, I will scrape the residue into a 

 paper, and keep it to start the fire in 

 the morning ; for if I put it into the 

 stove now, it will make a roaring hot 

 fire, and cause that other pan to run 

 over, and the burning wax would soon 

 fill the house with bees, unless the door 

 is kept shut. 



" Look at the first pan of wax ; how 

 pretty it looks, now it is cool. I will 

 pour the water from under it. Some 

 day I will re-melt the wax, and cool it 

 in tinj' cake-pans, which make little 

 cakes, that sell from here to laundry- 

 women for a nickle apiece. The large 

 cakes are sold to druggists who deal 

 in oils and paints. There are sun 

 wax-extractors, which are lined with 

 bright tin, and covered with glass. The 

 product from these sells for a few cents 

 higher than when melted with fire 

 heat. Tliese are used exclusively in 

 California, for both honey and wax. 

 The wax will be in a cake on top, and 

 the honey underneath." 



Peoria, Ills. 



Al'vrays Mention your Post-Oflice 

 County and State when writing to this 

 office. No matter where you may happen 

 to be for the hour when actually writing— 

 never mention anything but your perma- 

 nent address. To do otherwise leads to 

 confusion, unless you desire your address 

 changed. In that case state the old as well 

 as the new address. 



