10 



GLEA.N'EN'GS IN BEE CULTURE. 



J AX. 1. 



the six-yi-ar-old boy (the youngest), and he had 

 generally eaten much more maple su<jnr tha,n 

 he had butter. I was called a stubborn, stingy, 

 ignorant, wicked man becaus(> I would not 

 have a doctoi': but we all lived, whih^ several 

 of my neighbors died, with the doctors all 

 around them. 



I have written these lines so that any one 

 sick with that complaint may have the benefit 

 of my (experience. I consider Dr. Tyrrell's I'e- 

 marks on page 779 of Gi.eaxixgs to be like 

 '"apples of gold in pictures of silver " to any 

 one who will heed tliem. Jesse Hakiungtox. 



^Medina. Ohio. Nov. 2^. 



[Friend H.. do not be too severe on Prof. Cook. 

 We find, by the botanies, that the thoi'ough- 

 wort. or boneset family, includes a vei'y large 

 luimher of varieties; and although the white 

 snakeroot looks very different indeed from 

 what we in our locality call boneset. or thor- 

 oughwort. it is still (me of the species included 

 under that name. Years ago I sent a sample of 

 the plant to Samuel \Yagnei\ and my sample 

 was taken from the vei-y woods you allude to in 

 your article. He at once pronounced it white 

 snakeroot. or Eupatorium (ujeratoldcs. The 

 piece of woods has always been of great interest 

 to me. from the fact that, as cattle and all oth- 

 er stock have been for so many years excluded, 

 it is becoming a dense thicket of trees, plants. 

 and shrubs — quite a contrast, in fact, to most of 

 the timber land througliout Ohio. From the 

 fact that stock has been for so many years ex- 

 cluded from the woodlands where this plant 

 seems to thriv(>. I am inclined to think that it. 

 or some other one. has som(>thing to do with 

 milk-sicknes.s. Years ago I thought it richly 

 deserved a place in our greenhouses on account 

 of the beauty of its snow-white mass of bloom, 

 and 1 remember well when I first found it in a 

 greenhouse. Now almost (n'cry florist has one 

 or more varieties of EKpatoriuin with their 

 downy tassel-shaped flowers of snowy white- 

 ness. Recently a tinted vai'iety is found in 

 some collections. The little fiowers and the 

 mass of bloom have become developed by 

 greenhouse culture to tnuch greatei' size and 

 magnificence than they are in their native 

 woods. Bees get an amber-colored honey, of a 

 peculiar rich flavor, some seasons, from this 

 plant. Perhaps I should mention that thor- 

 oughwort has a strong. s\\eetish perfume — 

 sometimes so great as to be almost sickening, 

 while the snakeroot-blossom has no trace of 

 this distinctive pei-fume at all. It has. how- 

 ever, a delicate sweet i)erfume of its own. but 

 not at all like the thorouffhwort.l 



BEE-KEEPING FOR WOMEN. 



A FEW TinX(iS THAT HEM" MATEUIALIA- To 

 ETGHTEX TI1P:IK EABOIJS. 



Tnder favoring circumstances I can put in a 

 long day's work witli bees— often, in the busy 

 season, getting up at four o'clock: and, when 

 at work in the out-apiaries, not reaching home 

 until nine o'clock in the evening, liut I feel 

 pretty sure that, under some cii'cumstances. it 

 would be very little work I could do with bees. 

 Take, for instance, the matter of shade. If I 

 were obliged to work in some apiaries where 

 they arrange their hives in an open plat with 

 only shade-boards or vines, and the operator is 

 obliged to take the full i-ays of the hot sun. I am 

 afraid it would be a very short time that I 

 could stand it. In our apiaries the hives ai'e so 

 arranged that they are in the shade at least 

 part of the day: and in planning our work for 

 the day we always, so far as is possible, see to 



it that those hives which w ill be in the sun in 

 the afternoon are worked in the forenoon, and 

 vice iwrsa. Sometimes we don't plan just right: 

 then Dr. Miller takes the sun. I suppose men 

 are better able to stand the heat than women: 

 but I can haidly see why it is necessary for ei- 

 thei- to do so. What objection is there to ti'ees. 

 providing the shade is not too dense? They 

 help the b(^es to mark their location: and. oh 

 they are such a comfort to the bee-keeper if he 

 keeps them trimmed properlyl 



Last spring we were very busy, and neglected 

 to trim the branches in the Wilson apiary. 

 Wheiuncr I heard an ejaculatory "oh!" I 

 knew what the matter was. and would look up 

 to see Dr. ^Miller's hat jammed ovi>i' his eyes, 

 and both hands full. One day. after having 

 been tried in that way a number of times, he 

 stopped shoj't with a remark something like 

 this: "I'm going to trim these branches, even 

 if I don't do another thing to-day." He did 

 trim them and it didn't take so verylong either, 

 and they had been a big nuisance for some 

 time. You see. I rather had the advantage of 

 him. for I could pin my hat on firmly. 



It's the little things that help to make our 

 work hard or' easy. I should hardly like to 

 work with bees if I were obliged to do all the 

 heavy lifting. But Dr. Miller kindly favors me 

 in that direction — so much so that I remon- 

 strate sometimes. He generally assures me 

 that it is pure selfishness on his part, as he 

 wants to get as much help from me as possible, 

 and knows I can accomplish a good deal more 

 if I don't overdo. Eveiy lady bee-keepei' will 

 find a pair of rubbei' boots and a good gossamer 

 (one with sleeves if ])ossible) a great help — in 

 fact, almost a necessity. Showers sometimes 

 come up when work is pressing, and you are 

 obliged to keep on. I have in mind twice this 

 last summer, when we worked in a jjouring 

 rain because we had a lot of queen-cells that 

 must be attended to at once. 



Again, you can not wait in tlie morning for 

 the grass to dry off. and you will find your rub- 

 l^er boots a great convenience. Now. (ion't say. 

 as I did. that they are entirely too heavy and 

 warm, and that you know you nevei' can wear 

 them. Well. I }i(((l to. as Dr. Miller got me a 

 pair and insisted on my trying them. I like 

 them. So will you. Emma Wilson. 



Marengo. 111.. D(>c. 1.5. 



[Good shade in an apiary is indeed a luxury, 

 even to a )nnn. and to the poor bees, also, wlu^n 

 not too dense. It is very hard to be obliged to 

 work in the hot sim, over hives all day. without 

 at leasi a little shade a ])art of the day. Shade- 

 boards are inconvenient, as you say. About 

 the best thing. I think, is small trees, or trees 

 that do not have a very dense foliage. Large 

 apple-trees are rather bad: small ones are just 

 riglit. Grapevines are hardly the thing, in my 

 estimation. They require such constant trim- 

 ming, and that (luring the busiest part of the 

 time in the apiary, that either one or the other 

 of two things happens— they are eith(M- neglect- 

 ed, or they stick out in the way unless attended 

 to so that they take valuable time away from 

 the be(es. A small boy can do it, it is true: but 

 somehow or other it does not get done at our 

 home apiary. I never had my hat crammed 

 down over my eyes as you say Dr. ]\Iiller has 

 had. but I have had an ugly shoot from a vine 

 that had been cut off. punch me in the face: 

 anci I have felt more than once as if I wanted 

 to tear the whole thing up, root and branch. 

 This matter of shade is one of the important 

 questions, and I hope our coiTespondents will 

 discuss it. 



\'ou \y\\\ remembei', three or four years ago I 

 recommended light rubber boots to work with 



