1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



583 



It's iust ohiR'k full of good tliiiiRS. and I havo 

 laiigiu'd till I i-ried ovor Kiiiiibler"s description 

 of liis journey up tho canyon over the half-nitch 

 road, and yei "no harm done:" and tho littlo 

 siiit> piiMurc showing the editor in hot water: 

 the doctor's outburst, etc. I sui>i)ose the weatli- 

 er has something to do wit ii it, for I feel more 

 like laughing than I do any thing else; and the 

 more solid matter: the biography of your art- 

 ist ; the present editor of the A)ncyir(i)i Tin 

 JtiKrnal. besides the Home talks, are exceeding- 

 ly intert'Sting to me. 



now TO ri.EAX tiik hl.\st-tuhk. 

 .\ few days ago I pickeii up the directions for 

 using whicii are S(Mit with Clark smokers: then 

 I road in a back number of (;i,i;.\NiN(iS how Dr. 



M uses a crooked wire with a hoou on one 



side, to clean the blast-tube. That's all right, 

 doctoi', till you can do better. I tri(>d the bent 

 wire: but aftei' hooking a while I found ihe 

 scraping, like the handle of a .jug. to be all on 

 one side: and witli INIr. Root's green stick I 

 rammed more in tlian I imlled out. When you 

 have como to this conclusion, go to your shop, 

 and. with a '^s-inch bit(l mean a l)it. and oni' 

 that will cut. too — not a //(//;;/ that will turn in 

 like a screw): bore a hole in the under side of 

 your bellows, in line with the blast-tnbo (when 

 the bellows is closed). Xow pass a stick, small 

 end first, through from the underside, and pull 

 it out at the nozzle, bringing the obstruction 

 out instead of pushing it down in. Cork the 

 hole, and try a smoke: and if you don't like this 

 plan, keep on with the wire, or ramming it in 

 with a stick. You will get your bell(y)ows full 

 of it after a while. 



FUEL FOK SM0KP:RS. 



Take dry cobs and pound them up the size of 

 hiekorynuts or walnuts, and start the first time 

 with a few coals from the stove. When refill- 

 ing, save a few of the coals to start the fresh 

 col)s: and if they have gone out you can start 

 or light them with a match, or use a little rot- 

 ten wood to start them, as you can not easily 

 light the fresh cobs with a match. I prefer 

 cobs, as the smoke is more agreeable to me and 

 to the bees, and it takes loss to quiet them; no 

 sparks to burn me and my clothes, nor ashes to 

 blow into our honey while smoking the bees out 

 of the crates. I can load a Clark smoker with 

 cobs so it will last three or four hours. 



BEE-E.SCAPE.S NOT WANTED. 



We have no use for bee-escapes. I believe I 

 can take oft' a thousand pounds quicker, and 

 with less trouble, without thera than with. 



TO START BEES IX SECTIONS. 



Sometimes, when bees will not go into sec- 

 tions they can be started by lifting tho crate or 

 super, and scattering some small [)iocosof jjapor 

 between tho frame and crati; (don't bo afraid to 

 put on enough), and then sprinkle sawdust in 

 the boxes from the top: and if some is left on 

 top of them, if there is a bee-space above it is 

 all right. The bees begin by gnawing and car- 

 rying out the paper, and get interested in the 

 boxes wliile clearing them from sawdust. Try 

 it. It doesn't always work, but generally does 

 if there is plenty of honey. 



HONEY -JUMBLES. 



If there is any such thing as a recipe for mak- 

 ing honey-jumbles or honoy-jumboos. oi' any 

 thing else in tlie line of honey, fit to eat. I wisli 

 you would publish it in (ii>E.\NiNGs, unk^ss you 

 think I would l)e the only one who would care 

 foi' them. 



BEE-KEEPEKS' SOlNGS WANTED. 



There is another thing I should like to know, 

 and that is, where to send and get all the bee- 



keepers' .songs with music. 1 think tho oflicers 

 in every bee-kee])ers' convention ought to have 

 two or them included in their program, and 

 have them sung by some good singers. 



MAKING FOUNDATION IN LONG STRIPS. 



\^'e make our foundation in strips up to :.'0 or 

 :i() feet long, and cut up for use. Wo intend to 

 make a piece 7.") or KXt foc^t long to drapi' our ex- 

 hibit at the county fair. 



A GRKEN-KVEI> MONSTKI! AHEAD. 



Do you know tliat there is a great green-eyed 

 yellow-backed monster nibbling at tlio bee-men 

 of this land, and that by and by ho will get 

 through the skin (so it hurts), and then they 

 will begin to realize tho cause of their trouble? 

 Oh what a squirming there will be I 



CUESTEK Ol.MSTEAD. 



East Bloomfield, N. Y., .Inly, 1892. 



T"WINS. 



HOPE. THE BEE-KEEPERS BANK ACCOUNT. 



Misfortunes seldom come singly, so 'tis said. 

 But they don't always conu; in pairs— some- 

 limes in swarius. But we are not complaining 

 of swarms this year, in this corner of the uni- 

 verse — only twins — not twin babies, for they are 

 never an affliction — never a misfortune — unless 

 two mouths have to bo satisfied with one ration 

 or less. Twins, nevertheless — two of a kind. 



Last season was one of the worst ever known 

 here, for bee-keepers. There wasn't honey 

 enough to sweeten one's temper, to say nothing 

 of the rest of the family. The profits of the 

 business were obtained chiofiy by banking on 

 hope— that 18913 would be better-^mitst be bet- 

 ter, l^ecauso the probabilities were that we'd 

 not have two poor years in succession. So tlie 

 compensations that were to be in 1893 were set 

 over against the losses in 1891. and the average 

 looked quite respectable. Whereas we got zero 

 in 1891, we expected the biggest kind of a crop 

 in 1892 — on the theory that our compensations 

 and our disappointments will somehow average 

 in the long run. 



You have heard of Hosmer? Let's see; was 

 it a thousand pounds per colony lie wagered to 

 produce, and no takers'? Some of us had read 

 that charming fiction. So you see how profita- 

 ble the season was to be. We laid in sections 

 by the carload (or less), and foundation at 

 wholesale rates. Hope was our hank account. 

 We were drawing against it. What a misera- 

 ble old world this would be wore it not for 

 hope! Paul said hope was like an anchor to 

 the soul. Yes; and. as paradoxical as it sounds, 

 hope is wiiKjs to tho soul. By it we soar be- 

 yond the clouds. By hope we overcome dis- 

 couragements and drown despondency. Hope 

 nerves tho arm and cheers tho heart. By hope 

 we dwell in kings' palaces. So while our bees 

 slept we figured future profits. Thank God for 

 hope I 



But spring came — not early, but it came. We 

 an^ pi'otfy sure to ha,v(> warm wcnithor in this 

 country by tlu? first of July. We did this year. 

 The bees were out earlier than that, through 

 force of habit, but they didn't bother the neigli- 

 bors' watering-troughs. Those able to leave 

 the hives could got a good supply without go- 

 ing far. Water wasn't a scarce article. 1 heard 

 no one in(|uiring for it — no schemes for making 

 rain artificially. If what fell had btn-n nectar, 

 we could have gotten our pitchers full without 

 any bees. The sun did shine occasionally, but 

 the bees did not report for duty with the vigor 

 and alacrity we had counted on. In our eager- 

 ness to record results we had neglected to in- 



