liO^'t 



THE AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



487 



for in movable-frame hives, and properly protected, go far 

 ahead of the Blacks. 



Proper Care kor Bkes. — Any race of bees proporly 

 cared for will do much better for their owner than if left 

 alone to shift for themselves ; but unless a person under- 

 stands bees, he would better not handle them much. Even on 

 the let-alone principle bees pay their owners full for all 

 money invested in them. 



Putting on Sipers. — If colonies are strong, supers may 

 be put on some weeks before the main honey harvest. Last 

 year we had about 10 hives in one corner of the apiary that I 

 overlookt, and supposed I had put supers on until one threw 

 off a swarm. Then I hastened and put supers on all, but 

 every one swarmed, and had the swarmlngfever the worst 

 kind. They gave but little surplus, compared with those I 

 put on supers a month or two weeks earlier. 



Shading and Ventilating Hives. — Bees out in the sun, 

 with no tree to shade them, should be protected by a shade- 

 board and a large entrance in front. If in a hive that can be 

 opened at a side, a larger entrance may be given by opening 

 at the side. But when swarming, and the queen is dipt, it 

 bothers much to have the bees pouring out at both the front 

 and side of the hive, and the queen is oftener lost. 



Selling Honey Near Home.— It pays to sell more of 

 our honey near home, direct to consumers. It should be 

 graded, too. The very whitest and prettiest should be sold 

 for a cent or more than the medium, and the rough and dark 

 should be cheaper. It is not fair to hold it all at one price. 

 We should let a poor person have our nice honey at the same 

 price as the rich and fashionable, and not try to put the dark, 

 rough honey on any one who did not choose it. 



Warren Co., III. 



Paddy O'Brien's Picnic. 



BV EUGENE SECOR. 



"Hello! Pat. What's the matter with you? Been to a 

 'wake?' Your physiognomy looks as if you had had a tussle 

 with Fitz-immons." 



A iuiil~c, did ye say? Nary a bit of it, more's the pity. It 

 were jisl a picnic. At iny rate that's phat Daykin Smith 

 called it. Wan foin mornin ferninst Easter, the Daykin came 

 over to my shanty an says to me, " Pat, wat are ye after doin 

 nowadays ?" says he. 



Says I to the Daykin, "Oim waitin to wurrick for the 

 Prisidint, Mike Kinley. Claveland haint gin me a lick 

 o'wurrick for the space of two year, an' the sate o'me pants 

 shpake the thruth whin I tell ye I'm shtandin on me last 

 legs," says I. 



An' the Daykin, all a smilin, says he, " Phat will ye ax to 

 gin mc a lift at a small, aisy job that's no wurrick at all?" 

 Says the Daykin, " I've a little picnic phat I cant play at me- 

 silf alone, sin' I'm gettin a little old and wake in the back, an' 

 I nade !/c f ur a shart wile to help me out a dialemma," says 

 he. " An' if ye loikes the job I'll be after kapin ye all sum- 

 mer, maybe. An' I'll give ye a dollar a day an' sumthin to 

 swaten yer tay if we two agray," says he. 



"All right," says I. "It's not often that I meets a foin 

 Christian gintleman loike yoursilf, that don't want a poor 

 laborin man to water the airth wi' the swet from his honest 

 eyebrows," jays I. "I loike your honest countenance and 

 yer swate smile," says I. 



" Bridget O'Brien and her sivcn lone orphan children 

 shall no longer ate the bread of starvation, whin their hard 

 wurrickin father can foind sich a nice, clane, aisy job riirlit 

 at his own door and no trampin," says I. 



An" the nixt mornin, bright and airly," I wint over to the 



Daykin's hunting for the wurrick that was no wurrick at ail- 

 that would put bread an potatys and patches on the backs of 

 me siven darlint orphans and their poor lone mither. 



An' the Daykin was there afore me. An' he says to me, 

 "Pat, do ye moind helpiu to fetch the blissed baze out of the 

 cellar. They be achin' to be out in the sunshine," says he. 

 "They're crazy for a fly," says the Daykin. 



" Ah," says I, " these are the little bastes that wurrick 

 all night and all day and never quit on Sundays. They niver 

 go on a sthrike whin the boss kapes all their wages. They 

 suck honey out of the mud puddles and fix it up so nice an 

 swate we don't know where they got It. But, begorra, I 

 didn't know these craturs ate flies before," says I. 



And there set a hundred coops of baze all a shtandin by 

 thimsolves on the top of aich ither, slapin quiet and peacable 

 as me own little bairns in their trLindle-bed on the floor. 



An the Daykin smiled and says, "Pat, do ye think ye can 

 carry thim out gintle loike, an' not wake thim up sudden?" 

 "Ah," says I, " ye can thrust me for that," says I. "What 

 did I be after doin whin Bridget be a scrapin togither a bit to 

 ate at the washtub, but carry me two darlin twins in me arms 

 all the blissed day, singin swate Irish songs till yer heart 

 would break wi' the music of it. 



" An hav'n't I carried many a load of brick an' mortar, so 

 slow an" gintle-like up thra pairs of stairs to the fellows up 

 there phat did the wurrick ? Indade, I am jist the boy that 

 can whisk two of thim little boxes under me arm an' smoke 

 me pipe in the bargain," says I. 



An the Daykin pickt up wan o'thim and walkt off wid it 

 as spry like as a young married man. An' d'ye think I was 

 going to be bate by the loikes o'him. Not a bit of it. 1 could 

 carry a dizen coops loike thim, wid all the swate animals 

 thrown in. 



So I raitcht fer wan o'thim and clapt it under me arm 

 In a jiffy, an' out of the cellar I started behoind the Daykin. 

 But, bad luck to the day I was born in ; the door post hit me 

 box. The top of it fell off, an' the bottom fell out. An' the 

 little varmints must a took me for a honeysuckle, for they 

 came out by rigiments, an' ivery wan of thim tried to raich 

 me before the ithers. " Houly Moses !" says I, " the Daykin 

 niver towled me that baze got honey wid ther tails. By the 

 Powers, I'd rather the little varmints would warm ther feet 

 and bore for honey on the Daykin's bald head, than be so 

 familiar wid strangers. They must have thought me nose 

 wer a red poppy, an' me whiskers a bed of dandelions. An' 

 the song they were after singin would never put me babies to 

 slape in thewurruld." 



An' I whiskt mesilf out o'doors wid a quickstep for the 

 garden, an' rolled in the strawberry patch, shoutin, "Bloody 

 Murther !" "Bridget!" " Father O'Cleary I" an' prayin to all 

 the saints in the calendar to be delivered from the hot divils a 

 crawling up me slaves and down me shirt an' thro the holes in 

 me Claveland pants, an' committin fornication upon me at 

 ivery jump. 



That's phatslhe matter wid Paddy O'Brien's physiognomy. 

 I've been to a picnic, jist. 



Judging Apiarian E.xhibits at Fairs. 



BY W. Z. HUTCHINSON. 



One of the hardest things to bear In exhibiting at fairs is 

 to see premiums awarded to inferior exhibits when there are 

 other exhibits really deserving of said premiums. As a rule, 

 I think that premiums are fairly and justly awarded, accord- 

 ing to the merits of the exhibits ; that is, most of the judges 

 are honest and capable, and when an exhibitor is disappointed 

 it is usually the result of an honest difference of opinion be- 

 tween himself and the judge. Of course there will be an oc- 

 casional case of dishonesty. There was one such case in the 

 apiarian department of one of the fairs that I attended last 

 fall. All the exhibitors knew that there was something wrong. 



