No. 2. 



Letter from a Bee-Keeper. 



65 



figi- 



Fig. 2. 



fig. 3. 



Letter from a Bee-Keeper. 



Nothing gives me greater pleasure in a 

 country walk than to hear a bee buzzing by 

 my ear, as I pass the fence of a cottage. A 

 row of bees is always a good sign. It shows 

 that the owner takes pleasure in his home. 

 Whenever I stop to have a talk with him 

 about bees, 1 always get a civil answer, and 

 thanks for any thing I can tell him. 



Tliere is an old and true saying, that it is 

 no use trying to help a man who will not help 

 himself. Now the cottager who keeps bees 

 is trying to help himself and his family too; 

 and the help which I can give such a man 

 will most likely come to good. I often hear, 

 that when a man has ooof/ luck in the swarm- 

 ing time, and when it is luckily a good bee 

 year, the money he gets for his honey goes a 

 good way to pay his rent, or get some warm 

 things for winter; — some years are certainly 

 better bee years than others; man has no- 

 thing to do with the weather. But I wish to 

 show you how to make the most of eood 

 years when they do come, and that a little 

 common sense, with pains taken in a good 

 way, has more to do with the matter than 

 what you call luck. 



In the first place, then, never kili, your 

 BEES. Many of you will say, " Our father 

 and grandfather did so, and why should not 

 we? We think it far the best way to burn 

 the lightest and heaviest. The first would 

 not live through the winter. We may get 

 somcthinfic from them, and plenty from the 

 heaviest." This is very well for those who 

 knov,' no better; but I am sure you are will- 

 ing to try a better way if you hear of one, as 

 every one of you must feel sorrow when you 

 murder by thousands in the autumn, those 

 who have worked hard for you all the sum- 

 mer, and are ready to do so again next year. 

 I myself was told by a bee-master, that he 

 always saw the ghosts of the bees the night 

 after he burned them ; and have heard of an 

 old woman, who never went to church the 

 Sunday following. She felt she had done a 

 most cruel deed, and she was right in so 

 thinking. But to pass over the cruelty. If 

 I can show that you may get much more ho- 

 ney without killing your bees, the least you 

 can do is to try the plan. In France, Ger- 



many, and Switzerland, they never kill their 

 bees. Whenever I asked if they did so, they 

 smiled at my question, and said, " Oh, that 

 would never do; we should never keep up 

 our stock." " How, then, do you get the ho- 

 ney ?" " Oh, nothing is easier." And these 

 poor cottagers, without half the means we 

 have, never burn their bees. Some of them 

 make their straw hives with the top to take 

 off, and fasten it down with wooden pegs: in 

 .Tuly they pull out the pegs, and, with a large 

 knife cut avv-ay the top of the hive from the 

 combs which are fi.xed to it ; they then cut 

 out what honey the bees can spare, never 

 caring for those which are flying about their 

 heads; for they will not touch them if they 

 have a pipe in their mouth. When they have 

 helped themselves, they peg the top down 

 again, and leave the bees to make all straight, 

 and gather honey enough for the winter in 

 August and September. Others put another 

 large hive on the top of a strong stock, in 

 May, which prevents their swarming. This 

 hive they take off when full. Others turn 

 up their hives in July or August, and cut out 

 some of the combs. Others, who know more 

 about it, place square wooden boxes one on 

 another, putting empty boxes below, and tak- 

 ing away full ones from the top. But this 

 ffives coarse honey, as I shall soon show. All 

 these ways are clumsy, much worse than 

 those I am going to teach you, but all better 

 than burning the bees. Well, then, let this 

 be your first rule. Never kill one. 



How to unite weak Swarms by the Fun- 

 gus or Puff Balls. — You may find in damp 

 meadows a fungus which children call "pufi' 

 balls." When they are quite ripe, if you 

 pinch them, they give you a dirty powder, 

 like smoke. Pick them when half ripe. The 

 largest are the best. Put them in a bag, and 

 when you have squeezed them to half the 

 size, dry them in an oven after the bread is 

 drawn, or before the fire. The fungus is fit 

 for use when it will hold fire like tinder: 

 keep this dry till the time you take your bees. 

 In the autumn weigh your hives; mark those 

 which are heaviest and lightest. This, of 

 course, you cannot do rightly, unless you 

 know the weight of your hives when empty. 

 Weigh them before you put the swarms into 

 them, and mark the weight on the outside, 



