141 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Feb. 



them so they can be spared as well as not? 

 The loss of "this source of honey is more to 

 be feared by the bee-keepers of America 

 than the craze about artificial honey-comb, 

 or, in fact, any other craze that may come 

 up. Farmers will cut down bassAvoods, 

 where a good price is offered for the lumber, 

 in spite of any thing we can do. 



Now, then, let us gird up our loins and 

 commence raising trees. The little trees 

 Ave pick out of the forests are not tirst class. 

 They need planting out in good rich nursery 

 ground for a year or two before they are tit 

 to sell ; and my impression is, we could get 

 nicer trees, quicker and cheaper, by rais- 

 ing them from the seed in the tirst place. 

 Has anybody any basswood seed that will 

 grow or can it be "had? lias anybody any lit- 

 tle trees raised from the seed, that they will 

 send at reasonable prices? Those pulled up 

 in the woods are almost always twjsted and 

 starved-looking. We want some nice ones 

 to start with. House up, ye juveniles, and 

 help your ITncle Amos in his plan of provid- 

 ing basswood honey for future generations. 

 Why, when I think of it I almost feel as if 

 God had a promise laid away somewhere, 

 that we haven't found yet, that those who 

 labor for new generations, to rise up long 

 after them, should somehow be permitted 

 either to be present or look on and see the 

 fruit of their labor. I do not know wliat 

 will be going on in 1900 ; but somehow I 

 feel as if God were going to give me a 

 glimpse of it. and allow me to love the bee- 

 friends and their children's children then as 

 I do now. 



Now, then, boys, hurrah for the young 

 basswoods ! not only during the year KJOO, 

 but during this bright new year of 1880. 

 How much can we do toward it? If we can 

 not get seeds, let us get nice little trees from 

 the woods, (live them poultry manure, 

 give tliem ashes, give them boin- dust or 

 phosphate, or wliatever they tell us they 

 like, after we have offered it t) them. I liave 

 seen tiiem take bone dust and ashes already. 

 ^Vlien you see their beautiful green leaves 

 unfolding and spreading out. of ))r()digious 

 size, even though they are not yet a foot 

 high, see if you do not say with nie they are 

 one of the jtrettiest plants that (rod ever put 

 on this green earth ; and they are the plants 

 that are going to furnish the l^enutifu! white 

 delicate aromatic comb honey that no man 

 ever counterfeited successfully yet. nor ever 

 will, while this green earth shall last. 



JCrnest just now reminds me that I ought 

 to have made the above to occupy the space 

 assigned to iMyself and My Neighbors, and I 

 think it will have to do, even though it was 

 not intended for it. You who go into this 

 little basswood-tree business are to be my 

 neighbors ; and I confess I shoidd like to 

 call the little trees my neighbors as well. 

 How can we have pleasanter " neighbors •' 

 than a row of beautiful basswood shade- 

 trees in front of our homes, or, if you choose, 

 (dear around our farms, or wherever there is 

 a roadside? Wait until about the fourth of 

 July, Avhei\ the trees are in full bloom, and 

 roaring with bees, and then tell me if even 

 one such a tree is not a neighbor worth hav- 

 ing. 



THE BEE'S STORY. 



SO.METHING FOR THE " WEE " FOLKS. 



T ITTLE Millard, who attemls tlie Bloomer 

 l^i school in a western city, was walkinjj- slowly 

 f r home from school one beautiful summer eve- 

 "*" ning'. This little boy liked nice flowers, and 

 knowing' his mother Avould tell something- 

 about any flower he might bring her, he always 

 watched lor a flower. Right by his ])ath lay a beau- 

 tiful red rose. 



"Oh, ho'.v jiretlyl" said Millard ;" n)uuinui will 

 like that, I know she will." 



When he stooped to pick it up, he heard a buzz; 

 and, looking up. saw a bee very near his head. 



•'Nasty thiugl I'll kill it; it shall not spoil my 

 pretty rose," said he. 



He began to throw stones at the innocent bee. 

 Why did the bee not sting Millard? Did it not find 

 the flower flr.st? Of course, its right came first, but 

 it is going to talk to Millard. 



" If you will sit down, Millard, and take the rose 

 in your hanil, I will alight on it and tell you about ^ 

 ray home," said the bee. 



"Your home I "said Millard; "you have no home." 



"Yes, I have," said the bee. 



Timidly our Millard sat down, and the little 

 brown coated worker took his seat on the rose. 



" My story," said the bee, " must be short, for the 

 flowers have more honey than we can gather 

 to-day." 



"What do you want honey for? Where do you 

 put it?" began Millard, as fast as he could talk. 



"Well, I will tell you all about my home. What I 

 want honey for, and where we put it," said the bee. 

 " As jou go to school to-morrow," it went on to say, 

 "look in Dr. Lutes' yard. You will see several lit- 

 tle houses— boxes you will call them. I wish you 

 could see inside. The one next the corner is my 

 home. Our house is two stories high. In the first 

 story, or down stairs, there are eight long narrow 

 rooms. Here is where the baby- bees stay, each 

 having a little cradle to himself. When a baby-bee 

 is Ave or si.v days old. the nurse-bee seals up the 

 top of his cradle. Here ho sleeps until he is big 

 enough to come out and work in the house. Our 

 mother stays here too. Her name is Queen Boss. 

 She always has the nicest things we bring home. 

 I always take nice things to her." 



"That's like me," said Millard: "I am going to 

 give my mamma this rose." 



" You are a j7"od boy, then. You wanted to know 

 about what 1 did with honey. We have many, 

 many m'ce boxes, or cells; into these we j)ut the 

 honey. You know we must work hard, for flowers 

 do not bloom all the time. It is almost sundown, 

 so I must hurry. We must kill a lot of lazy drones 

 to-night. They eat much, but are so very lazy tho.v 

 never work at all. It is not worth while for them 

 to live." 



said Jliilard, "J do want to see your home; 

 other bees will sting mc ■- I know they 



said (he bee, "not if you do not harm 



"Ohr 

 but the 

 will." 



" No," 

 them." 



"The drones will," said Millard. 



"Oh! my dear boy, a drone can not sting. He 

 makes plenty of noise, but, like bragging people, 

 that is all it amounts to. We are both staying here 

 too long, Millard, I must go. We will talk some oth- 



