90 



THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



room to display to advantage our various 

 operations, and we assure you that the 

 bee-lieepers of this county will add a 

 novel and interesting feature to your an- 

 nual exhibition. 



We have here presented to you but a 

 few points of our business, and trust our 

 honeyed remarks will not fail to be fruitful 

 of good results. 



For the American Bee Journal. 



What about that Honey 'I 



The following, although more amusing 

 than instructive, will, perhaps, do for one 

 of the winter numbers of the Journal. Its 

 truthfulness makes it all the more amus- 

 ing. 



Dr. K. and Mr. A., who are transacting 

 some business, are interrupted for a mo- 

 ment by a stranger, Mr. B., who is ad- 

 mitted to the office. Mr. A. — Well, now, 

 let's see about that honey: How much did 

 that amount to ? 



Dr. K. — Let me see : I will have to look 

 that up. How many jars did you have 

 the last time? 



Mr. A. — Ten, I believe. 



Dr. K. — I had an idea it was a dozen. 

 Ah! here it is. You are right. Ten jars, 

 at 75 cents, including the jars, would be 

 $7.50, which, with $5.40 for the first lot, 

 makes $12.90. 



Mr. A. — Have you any more of that 

 granulated honey. I would like two jars 

 of it for a preacher I have with me in the 

 wagon. 



Dr. K. — (Leaving the room with Mr. A.) 

 Really, I have but one jar left, having re- 

 stored it all to its former condition by 

 heating it to about the temperature of 

 from 150 degrees to 168 degrees. It sells 

 better in that condition at the stores, they 

 tell me. I warmed some up to that tem- 

 perature last spring, and sealed it hermet- 

 ically, and I have some of it now, — not a 

 jar showing any signs of granulating. 

 When thus treated the flavor is not in- 

 jured, as I can see; but is just about 

 spoiled if brought to the boiling point. 



Mr. A. — Well, give me the jar that is 

 granulated, and two others. Now let me 

 see how we stand. $4.85 : that leaves that 

 you owe me. Haven't you some money 

 so that you can settle it now ? 



Dr. K. — Really, Mr. A., I am just about 

 entirely out: it would take all I have 

 got, if I did, and I don't think I could 

 settle it to-day, possibly. 



Mr. A. — Well, good morning. 



Dr. K. (entering the office.) — Well, Sir, 

 we liave been liaving some pretty cold 

 weather. 



Mr. B. — Yes Sir: but they are having it 

 colder than this where I came from. 



Dr. K. — Ah, where is that? 



Mr. B. — Montreal, Sir. I have just set- 

 tled at Forked River, to engage in the 



manufacture of a medicine called the 

 Russian Asthma Cure; but I can't com- 

 mence business without some 'oney. I j ust 

 heard you tell that gentleman that you 

 were all out, so I suppose it will be of no 

 use to talk about that. 



Dr. K. — Well, no sir. I am not troubled 

 with much of that article. I find it is 

 about as much as I can do to get along 

 and provide for my family. But about 

 this Asthma Cure. Have you tried it 

 in enough cases so that you are satisfied 

 that it will really cure asthma? 



Mr. B. — Yes, sir. It will knock asthma 

 and dyspepsia higher than a kite. I have 

 tried it in a hundred cases without a sin- 

 gle failure. I cured my own w.ite with 

 it, though she had it so bad that I have 

 been obliged to carry her to an open win- 

 dow many a time in the coldest nights of 

 a Canadian winter, that she might get her 

 breath. But to make it I must have some 

 'oney. I don't care how old or how blMk 

 it is, provided it is perfectly pure. 



Dr. K. — (Thinking, perhaps, he didn't 

 understand him) What did you say ? 



Mr. B. — I say I don't care how old or 

 how black it is, provided it is perfectly 

 pure. 



Dr. K. — (Musing, That is queer talk. I 

 suppose the gentleman must have heard 

 of our Bag Baby, and hasn't a very favor- 

 able idea of it having come from a land 

 of hard money. He speaks of it as black. 

 Let's see. Slavery was the cause of the 

 war, the war was the cause of the rag 

 baby, therefore the rag baby, must have 

 been of negro origin, and therefore black. 

 Perhaps that is his line of argument.) 

 How much do you want ? 



Mr. B. — A hundred pounds, at least, to 

 begin with. 



Dr. K. — (Musing. Let me see. That 

 would be about $500. I guess he tells the 

 truth about coming from Canada, for he 

 talks about pounds and shillings yet.) 

 You say you have some acquaintances at 

 Forked River. Perhaps you might get 

 some money there. 



Mr. B. — But there isn't any there. 



Dr. K. — Oh, my dear sir, you are mis- 

 taken. There is Mr. Falkinburg, Mr. 

 Parker, Mr. Holmes, — there is plenty of 

 money at Forked River. 



Mr. B. — Ah, but you didn't understand 

 me. It is houey I want. I happen to 

 have money, and will pay cash for your 

 honey, if you have anJ^ Ha, ha, ha. 



Dr. K. — Ha, ha, ha ; ha, ha, ha. Why, 

 my dear sir, I thought you was talking 

 about money all the time. It was money 

 I told Mr. A. I was out of Ha, ha, ha. 



Mr. B. — So then you have honey, have 

 you ? As I said before, I don't care how 

 old or how black it is, if it is only pure. 



For the information of bee keepers, I 

 will say, I soon disposed of what little 

 extracted honey I had at 20 cents. 



Ocean Co., N. J. E. Kimiton. 



