GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



966 



found a sumptuous fish-chowder dinner awaiting 

 us, to which we did ample justice. 



Monday and Tuesday of our visit was well put in, 

 hunting and fishing, and our table was well supplied 

 with fish, partridges, and squirrels. Uncle John 

 had a passion for ti-olling for salmon trout, and 

 for this purpose a line some two or three hundred 

 feet long is used, and the fish are caught in water 

 150 feet or more in depth. The line is weighted 

 with a pound sinker, and the hook bated with a 

 white fish. Troll this near a trout, and you are 

 (juite sure to hook him. Uncle John hauled in a 

 few one and two pounders, and one whopper as 

 long as your arm, which made the Rambler feel 

 like dropping the oars and sailing his hat in the 

 air. As it wasn't a good place to sail hats, he 

 stuck to his oars. 



THE DOCTOR'S MORNING CALL. 



Evenings we were all interested in Uncle John's 

 bear and deer stones. The season had just opened 

 for hunting deer, and hounds are put upon their 

 track, and the poor hunted animal puts for the 

 lake, which he plunges into, avoiding the hounds 

 only to fall a prey to the watchful hunter on the 

 lake. 



We were much interested in his bee-hunting ex- 

 perience. His plan is to start them so as to line 

 them toward the sun, claiming that bees can be 

 seen at a greater distance when thus flying. 



There are but few bees kept near the lake. Mr. 

 S. has an apiary near the head of the lake, and 

 finds pasturage on green osier, button-bush, and 

 lily-pads. Many bees are lost while crossing the 

 lake, and Mr. S. once saw a whole absconding 

 swarm in the water. He thinks the queen must 

 have blown down, and the whole swarm followed. 

 No doubt this swarm set out with great expecta- 

 tions; but, like many human lives, their expecta- 

 tions ended in disappointment and disaster, a por- 

 tion of which things have now and then fallen to 

 the lot of the Rambler. 



We have enjoyed your visit to Uncle John 

 thus far very much, friend Rambler. The 

 only thing we regret is that we could not 

 have been there likewise. Only he who has 

 been out on one of these outing excursions 

 knows what it is to have a keen appetite, 

 heightened by the morning air, satisfied 

 by a good breakfast of fish right from the 

 lake.— We are very glad indeed to know that 

 our Uncle John is a "correct Methodist." 

 It is to be regretted that there are not more 

 such who have charge of these camp- 

 grounds Sundays. Yes, friend Rambler, 

 those mountains are ours to look at and en- 



joy, and would that some of our discon- 

 tented folks might feel this sense of owner- 

 ship, instead of complaining because the 

 wealthy are rich and the poor are poor. We 

 are glad to get the facts in regard to bees 

 near the water. 



PHILIP H. BliW^OOD. 



THE MAN WHO OWNS 1000 COLONIES. 



TN a pleasant quiet home in Starkville, Herki- 

 M[ mer Co., N. T., in sight of his father's house, 

 ^r where he was born in 1S4T, lives the subject of 

 •*■ this sketch. He is of English descent, and 

 comes of the good old Quaker stock, in which 

 he may take just pride. His quiet and unassum- 

 ing life bears witness that the best characteristics 

 of this sect have a strong hold on the pi-esent gen- 

 eration. I can not forbear, in this connection, an 

 allusion to an elder brother. Rev. Isaac N. Elwood, 

 who, previous to his lamented death a little less 

 than two years ago, was well known in the Metho- 

 dist conferences of Michigan, as a gentleman of 

 rare qualifications, and enthusiasm in his chosen 

 work. The same earnest, faithful spirit seemed to 

 inspire these worthy brothers. 



Mr. Elwood's opinion of his own merits is so mod- 

 est that he is never found pushing himself into any 

 position of prominence. While in attendance at 

 his church, a few years ago, his pastor remarked 

 to me that the greatest defect in Mr. E.'s church 

 work was, that he underestimated his ability as a 

 leader. While this is one of his marked character- 

 tics, he is in many things one of the most persist- 

 ent and logical investigators, and most thoroughly 

 practical business managers, 1 have ever met. 



He supplemented a thorough common-school 

 education with a complete course at Cazenovia 

 Seminary, N. Y. After an interval spent in teach- 

 ing—some of the time in a high school in Michigan 

 —it was his intention to take a college course. Up- 

 on the advice of his physician he abandoned the 

 project, and began to look for some healthful and 

 congenial outdoor occupation. 



He was now about twenty-five years of age. Like 

 many other young men who have since honored 

 the calling, he went to M. Quinby for advice, and 

 it was at that home that I first met him. My first 

 impressions of the man have been lasting. I have 

 been intimately connected with him in every-day 

 business transactions; have met him in the apiary, 

 the workshop, the bee-keepers' convention, the 

 church, and many times in my own home; and 

 everywhere and always he has been the same 

 thoughtful, considerate. Christian man whom all 

 are compelled to honor. 



Deciding to undertake bee-keeping, he formed a 

 partnership with Capt. Hetherington, which con- 

 tinued for five years, when it was dissolved, and he 

 pursued the business by himself. He is an earnest 

 advocate of the Quinby closed-end frame, and uses 

 no other. He early adopted a section for his comb 

 honey which was 5% x h^, in., and took 5 x .5 glass. 

 He has since used this section exclusively, and his 

 sales have proved the wisdom of his choice. 



His method of wintering bees in what he calls his 

 "mud huts," and his system of ventilation, have 

 proved very successful. Just here I desire to say 

 that, If those who are interested in this subject of 



