1901 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER 



147 



some more; so please try and pull J. H. 

 from his retirement. There is that fun- 

 loving Dr. of Toledo who makes things 

 so lively at the conventions: he's keep- 

 ing awfully quiet. Just roll a ball his 

 way and see how kittenish he can be. 

 And what has happened to that canny 

 Scot of Lapeer who used to do such 

 artistic prodding miheRevieivf Where, 

 forsooth, are several of the other ancients 

 and honorables who used to make things 

 "go?" Has the weight of years o'er- 

 come them, or has there been so much 

 goody-goody-you-pat-me-and-I-pat-y o u , 

 that they have retired in disgust ? To be 

 sure, there are in evidence one or two 

 cantankerous chaps at whom 'tisn't safe 

 to point your finger unless you crave 

 a shower of billingsgate; but that kind 

 should be forced into retirement. 



All this was suggested by a letter from 

 a New Englander who was bewailing the 

 deadness of our literature. He has a 

 handy way of using the literary ''shil- 

 lalah" himself, so I wrote to him to 

 pitch in and I would applaud at the in- 

 dicated spots. 



This heat beats that of the Gila desert. 



"All ask for ice; but everywhere 

 Saltpetre is to sell." 



Yours as ever, 



.TOHN Hardscrabble. 



What goes in bee-keeping goes in The 

 Bee-keeper. What The Hee-keeper 

 says goes in bee-keeping — generally. 



THE BLIND BEE-KEEPER. 



BY BESSIE L. PUTNAM. 



FRANCIS HUBER was born in Gene- 

 va, July 3, 17.50. The son of a 

 prosperous family celebrated for 

 their knowledge of science and art, he 

 early manifested an aptitude for natural 

 history, which developed almost into 

 a passion; and so assiduously did he de- 

 vote himself to its pursuit that his health 

 was endangered. At the age of fifteen 

 the reflection of the glary snow render- 

 ed him permanently blind. 



This misfortune, bitterly deplored by 



the young naturalist, served not for a 

 moment to deflect him from his purpose; 

 in fact, the barrier seemed rather to 

 increase his efforts than to impede his 

 progress; and the other senses, sharpen- 

 ed by added duties and responsibilities, 

 brought to light, amid physical darkness, 

 many of the fundamental principles of 

 apiculture. In later years he was ably 

 assisted by his wife, niece and faithful 

 servant, Burnens. Of the patience, 

 fidelity and skill of the latter, a single 

 instance may be cited. It was at one 

 time necessary, in a certain experiment 

 to examine, separately, all the bees in 

 two hives. His master says: "Burnens 

 spent eleven days in performing this 

 work, and during the whole time he 

 scarcely allowed himself any relaxation, 

 but what the relief of his eyes required."' 



Huber experimented much on the 

 habit-i of bees; the peculiar functions of 

 the various organs being through these 

 observations for the first time made ap- 

 parent. The antennae, formerly regarded 

 merely as organs of touch, he maintain- 

 ed were also used in communication with 

 their fellows. The peculiar behavior 

 of the queen-bee, when deprived of both 

 antennae was fully described ; and ex- 

 tended observations with both workers 

 and drones confirmed his opinion — now 

 fully corroborated by scientists — that a 

 bee deprived of its antennse is as help- 

 less mentally as a pigeon bereft of its 

 cerebrum. 



Absurd as it now seems, a learned (?) 

 treatise on bees published in 1730 bears 

 the startling statement that one of the 

 chief missions of the drone is to play the 

 part of a setting hen. This speaks not 

 only of his industry in the work for 

 which nature especially designed him, 

 but of his "great usefulness in sitting 

 upon and hatching the Eggs and by his 

 great heat doth keep warm the Brood 

 when hateh'd, thereby giving the work- 

 ing Bees the more Liberties to follow 

 their Labours abroad, whilst they supply 

 their place at home, by taking care of 

 the Young: so that the Male Bee is not 



