THE BEE-KEEPERS' REVIEW. 



or from the moisture of the foot? When 

 would it suffer most from the moisture, 

 on a cold day or a warm one? Is there 

 as much moisture in a cool cellar, with 

 water under foot, as there is in a hot 

 kitchen with water on the stove? Had- 

 n't we better read up a little on ph3's- 

 ics? Is there much difference practi- 

 cally? Is not a moist atmosphere all 

 right any way? Don't physiolog'ists 

 advocate it, and advise us to keep a 

 pan of water on the stove of our living 

 room? Which is the more healthful, 

 sleeping in the dry atmosphere of a 

 stove-heated room, or in a clean earth 

 cellar? In such a dry room, or in a 

 bed room where no fire has been, and 

 where the window is open and the cool, 

 damp, foggy air is pouring in? 

 Couldn't a man sleep out in a big rain 

 in health and comfort with only a big 

 umbrella that would shed all the rain? 

 In a Rip Van Winkle, six months' 

 sleep, where would a man keep the 

 drier, in a warm dry cellar under a 

 rubber sheet, or in a cool damp cellar 

 in a gunny sack? Where are we at? 

 Am I theorizing too much? Would you 

 rather have experience? I want to 

 impress upon you the fact that the 

 little difference in the amount of moist- 

 ure between "dry" and "damp" cel- 

 lars cuts no figure at all. 



IT IS THE MOISTURE FROM THE BEES 

 THAT CAUSES THE TROUBLE. 



All writers at hand put great stress 

 on dry cellars. Mr. Bingham not only 

 cements the walls and floors to keep 

 out the dreaded moisture, but strongly 

 urges that we build our walls as early 

 in spring as possible so the moisture 

 will be all out of the walls too. Now, 

 Mr. Bingham, as you had all kinds of 

 fun with Mr. Barber, in the April Re- 

 view, over the fresh air breezes in the 

 cellar, let us have some sport at my 

 expense, if you choose, or at yours, if 

 you don't. You place a tub of water 

 in your house-cellar. Over this tub 

 set a stand of bees (weak or strong, 

 honey or no honey). Leave the bottom- 



board out-doors so the moisture from 

 the tub may have ingress, and leave 

 the top-board oft' that it and the moist- 

 ure from the bees may have easy exit. 

 Throw an3^ old thread-bare gunnysack 

 over the frames to keep the bees out of 

 your whiskers. If they have no sealed 

 honey, give them a spoonful or two 

 once a week of honey or syrup, thick 

 or thin. Never mind the bee-bread, 

 if they are weak they will want it. 

 If they die, or are diseased, or combs 

 are mouldy, yes, if the bees are not in 

 in perfect health, and combs as clean 

 in the spring as they were in the fall, 

 or if they consume more than a pound 

 of feed per month, draw on me for all 

 expenses and damages and I will 

 promptly honor the draft. Of course, 

 if there is water in your cellar most of 

 the winter, as there is in mine, you 

 can dispense with the tub. You can 

 put them in any time; say, October 25, 

 and put them out when willows bloom, 

 if the weather is nice, if not, leave 

 them till fruit-bloom. Keep the cellar 

 clean and well aired and there will be 

 no roaring, because the bees are per- 

 fectly contented and happy. Take a 

 bright light and see them often; it 

 breaks the monotony, but not their rest. 

 If you have to feed them weekly, they 

 will soon look for you and appreciate 

 your coming. Keep the temperature 

 at from 40 to 60 degrees. 



Why will they winter so well, and 

 eat so little and be so contented and 

 happy? Because they have perfect and 

 absolute control of the heat and moist- 

 ure situation. Of the heat by cluster- 

 ing loosely or compactly together-. Of 

 the moisture — well, they won't know 

 there is any, and without an instrument 

 man could not. In any event, it will 

 not be trickling down on their backs 

 the whole live-long winter — an endless 

 torment. 



GIVE THE MOISTURE A CHANCE 

 TO PASS OFF. 



In his chapter on wintering, see how 

 close Heddon came to it when he shov- 



