ISSCJ 



tiLKANINMiS IN ItKK ( I'l/riKK. 



1:33 



prtipolis. \Vi" (1(1 all Ilial is to lie doiic Idilln' 

 Ix't'S by the middir of Sc|U('rnliri-. i ticii li-l itic 

 b('t>s seal I lir Ixiard duw ii liLrlil. and don't hirak 

 till' si-aiint; anain until tiic lii>t of April, and 

 then only to stM- if all is rijriil. I don't want a 

 pjvrtii'lc of ail' to pa^s np tlii'onirh tin- l)i'cs diir- 

 uiS tilt' wintiT: jiivi' tlicin some vent at the 

 (MitraniM'. hut none on lop. WIumi tlir lioncy- 

 lioard is on ami scaled down. plai'<' a cushion, 

 ."i Of 1) ini'hi's deep, over the honi-y-hoa rd, or' lill 

 tlio top ohainbcr with straw. This top rovcrintj 

 lu'lps to retain the heat. I'nt your hand under 

 this eoverin£r in winter, and the honey-hoard 

 feels warm in fact, warm enonijli to melt snow 

 in the C()ldest weather. W'e have tried pultiniic 

 a six-incli chatl cushion on the i)ees below the 

 honey-board; but that won't do. as the cliafT in 

 the cnsliion becomes wr>t. and the bees dw indie 

 l>ad and conii' out weak in spriiif;;. I believe 

 that the l)ees" instinct to .seal u|) all cracks and 

 openinijs in ihc lii\(' is correct — at least, as far 

 as the ioi) of the hive is concerned, for ()Utd(Jor 

 wintering. When you put bees indoors to win- 

 ter, you iri\(' them an unnatiu'iil i)lac(^ to i)ass 

 tiie winter, and they may i'e(piii-e difi'erent 

 treatment. I have no doubt thai they do. In 

 fad. I never learned to winter bees successfully 

 in the cellar: but having, of ni'cessity. to win- 

 ter on summer stands. I have studied and ex- 

 perimented a gr'eat deal on how to winter out- 

 doors, and [ think we have the thins now down 

 to a safe point. Use a large deep hive. If the 

 i... frames use two stories, have the u|)per story 

 tilled with good honey. Put on a tight honey- 

 board early enough to get it sealed down, with 

 straw or other good packing above the board. 

 (Jive them a good wlndbi'eak. and then let them 

 alone until spi'ihg. A (piadruple hive is better 

 than a singl(> hive. K Fisaxce. 



Piaileville. Wis.. Jan. '.'."i. 



|Wliy. friend Fiance, wc are afr;iid you did 

 not read our essay very carefully. We did n(jt 

 recommend the bicycle for every one — only for 

 the bee-keeper who runs one or two out-apia- 

 ries. In the spring, wlien we go out on the 

 bicycle, we give the stores by alternating 

 comlis. liy a little intelligent forethought, 

 many tilings can be so arranged as to make it 

 unneceiSsary to carry things on the wheel, even 

 though it were practical. At the request of 

 several friends I have presented the essay as it 

 was read at the convention.] 



BICYCLES VERSUS HORSES FOR OUT-APIARY 

 TRIPS. 



AN KSS.VV BY K. K. 1500T. I{KAI> .\T TIIK MK III- 

 GAX .STATE CONVENTION. 



One of the obstacles in the way of establish- 

 ing out-apiaries is the expense' necessary to 

 make the trips to these yards. That expense 

 usually involves the keeping of a horse and 

 buggy: and when it is further incn'ased by bad 

 roads for six months in the year (during which 

 time the capital invested in' the horse, buggy, 

 harns. etc.. is lying idle, to say notliing of tlii' 

 ilaily labor* it becomes (piite a serious obstacle 

 indeed. I have had experience in the horse- 

 business, as some of yon may know. I know 

 •what it is to have almost impassible roads for 

 six or seven months in the year, during which 

 a horse can not be dri\en either for business or 

 pleasure. I know what it is during this time to 

 clean the stable, doctor a horse for mud-fever, 

 for a month or six weeks: I have experi«'nced 

 the lively sensation of being kicked clear across 

 the barn, and then on my back, panting for 

 breath, scarcely knowing wh«'ther I had a 



w hole bone (If not. I ha\(' iieen inn away witJi 

 a couple of limes, and know how cxliilarating 

 it is to feel that your life is hanging on a thread. 

 I know what it is to have horses get into bee 

 scrapes, having had one horse killed in one 

 such, as you may remember- a noble animal 

 for which I was olVered *17."i that very day. I 

 know something of the cost of keeping buggies 

 horses, stables, etc.. in repair. After having 

 had this experii^ice, my ardor in tlie horse- 

 business has gradually waned. I must make 

 trips to out-apiaries; and to walk to tliein 

 would be too slow; and to use one of my father's 

 horses— well, they were always busy cultivat- 

 ing, or something of the sort, in the garden. 



As soon as I sold my last high-ljyer I forth- 

 with tiought me a high-grade Safety Victor 

 bicycle; and most of you know the rest. After 

 having ridden it several hundred miles among 

 the bee-keepers of the Fasi. I found it indeed a 

 iiKtst serviceable horse for making trips t(j our 

 out-yards. On arrival at the yard I could leave 

 it leaning against the teiicc^ and not be in mor- 

 tal terror that the thing would be stung by a 

 bee. and cut up some awful caper. 



I am no expert rider, but 1 found that I could 

 make trips to our ont-apiary. on an average, 

 seven miles, in about three-quarters of an hour! 

 When I tried to do something real smart. I rode 

 ten miles, bought an apiary of so colonies, 

 returned home, all inside of iwo hours. As it 

 took me about ;i() minutes to complete the bar- 

 gain, the total time on the road of :.'0 miles was 

 a little ov(!r an honr and a half. IJut the roads 

 were good. On other occasions I have made .SO 

 miles in three hours; 4.") miles in live hours. 

 The latter distancj' was made over the hills of 

 York State. Now. this, no doubt, may look like 

 a big yarn to some of the uninitiated bicycle- 

 riders; but I am stating absolute facts. I do 

 not give these figuivs to boast, but simply to 

 show what an average man has done with a 

 machine after a little i}ractice. Now then: It 

 will be seen that the bicycle is a great time- 

 saver in making trips to out-apiaries. No horse 

 —at least very few— would undertake to make 

 such time. "But." yon say. "such rates of 

 speed must be a severe strain upon the consti- 

 tution of the rider." Experience in my case 

 proves that it is not. but, on the contrary, it 

 proves to be a wonderful tonic to the constitu- 

 tion. The muscles of the leg develop wonder- 

 fully. But how is it, yon may ask. that a man 

 can travel so much faster tlian the average 

 horse'.' The cushioned tires, ball bearings, and 

 the gearing, give him an immense advantage 

 over his dumb friend. 



Perhaps some young bee-keeper will say, " I 

 would have a bicycle if I thought I could "ride 

 it." It, is no trick at all to balance one. Almost 

 any one can be taught to ride them in half an 

 hour's time. Even our fricuid W. Z.. I am told, 

 masterc^d the machine in twenty minutes; but 

 in order to make speed and cover distance, it 

 takes a little time to develop the muscles, and 

 learn a few nice points in guiding, 



" But," you ask. "doesn't riding seven miles 

 to an out-apiary make you very tired— in fact, 

 weary — too much so to do a day's work'?" 

 Strange as it may seem, it does not. Riding is 

 one sort of exercise, and working over the hives 

 is another. A different .set of muscles in either 

 case is called into action. Most of the care of 

 our out-apiary last summer devolved upon the 

 writer personally. I have taken a trip down in 

 tlic morning, worked all day, and come back in 

 the evening, tired, perhaijs. a little, but no more 

 so than any one (>lse who has done a full day's 

 work. At other times, when I have had a spare 

 hour or two. I would mount the wheel, run 

 down to the apiary, diagnose the hives, and 

 give such attention as might be needed to this 



