70 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



April 1. 



The recipes for the use of honey as food 

 and in medicine are, I think, the most valuable 

 feature of these leaflets. In fact, I thought 

 they were of such value that I selected the 

 best of them and had them printed upon the 

 label on the can. We sell mostly extracted 

 honey, so that if the leaflets themselves were 

 destroyed they could be referred to at any 

 time. Quite a number of families do not care 

 for honey as a spread, but use it for cooking 

 purposes and in medicine, and any thing that 

 serves to call their attention to the use of hon- 

 ev in this way is just so many more customers 

 gained. E. Z. Buchanan. 



Allegheny, Pa., Feb. 27. 



HOW TO MAKE THOSE LEAFLETS A SUCCESS. 

 I guess I have said as many good things 

 about them as any one; and before you dump 

 them into the waste-basket lay some away for 

 me to use ; for if I ever get any more good 

 crops of honey I shall certainly want them. 

 Now, then, Mr. Editor, you want our views. 

 Should the leaflet be more expensive? I 

 might suggest one verse or a few lines added 

 for the express purpose of cutting out and 

 pasting in our hats. I should want it to read 

 something like this: " Don't waste these leaf- 

 lets, throwing them on porches, and scatter- 

 ing them around promiscuously. Don't use 

 these leaflets if your honey is not of good 

 quality and thoroughly ripened before it was 

 extracted. Don't forget, when you do make a 

 sale of good honey, to hand the customers a 

 leaflet. Don't forget to tell them that it will 

 teach them how to warm up candied honey; it 

 will educate them quite a little. Don't forget 

 that very few are educated about honey and 

 bees. Don't forget that half the people hard- 

 ly know what honey is. They should and will 

 if we do our part well. Those leaflets will 

 help do the talking. Don't forget to leave a 

 sample of honey when ) ou call from house to 

 house. Don't forget to leave the leaflet and 

 your name and address, because, after they eat 

 the good honey, they will read the leaflet and 

 then say, I must get some of that hone)-." 



Don't you see we almost compel them to 

 read those leaflets, and also buy our honey ? 

 Don't forget to stay at home, though, if your 

 honey happens to be a little off — so much so 

 that your own family don't like it. Don't for- 

 get that poor honey sells poorly, just the same 

 as any other poor thing. Don't forget those 

 leaflets are all right if you know how to use 

 them rightly. Don't forget to take off your 

 hat every few days and read these don'ts. Don't 

 forget that, if the leaflets are all right in one 

 place, they must be so in other places. 



New London, O., Feb. 7. Dan White. 



NO SALES FROM HONEY-LEAFLETS. 

 On page 19 Henry Wilson, of Clinton, 111., 

 gives an unfavorable report of the honey- 

 leaflets as an advertising medium for selling 

 honey. Since the editor says, "Let's hear 

 from' others," I will testify. On August 3, 

 1897, I ordered from you 500 leaflets, which 

 were forwarded to my address, and I began 

 distributing them among my neighbors and 



friends at once ; and as my correspondence is 

 somewhat extensive I usually made it a point 

 to put one in every letter I mailed. The re- 

 sults have been watched with anxiety, but I 

 have failed to notice a single pound of honey 

 sold under the direct influence of the leaflets. 

 My mode of advertising honey is, let them 

 taste it. M. N Simon. 



Bloomdale, O., Jan. 4. 



THAT MORTON SWARM-CATCHER ; CORREC- 

 TIONS FROM NIVER. 



The last Gleanings, containing your write- 

 up of the swarm-catcher, calls for a word or 

 two from devotedly thine. 



Firstly. You have no cause to grumble at 

 my " five feet four." That elevation is a birth- 

 day present to me. See ? 



Nextly. Your drawing of the extension- 

 pole is wrong at the top. The basket must be 

 swung from forks, so it will keep right side 

 up with care. 



Once more. There is another pole necessa- 

 ry (or convenient) to go with the outfit. That 

 is a 16-foot pole with a hook at the end, to 

 shake the limb as you hold the basket under 

 the swarm. After the main part of the swarm 

 is in the basket, and lowered by means of the 

 rope and pulley-s, there is quite a per cent of 

 them flving that will go back to the limb, 

 many times calling the rest after them. But 

 if you keep up a shaking of the limb with the 

 pole they settle on the basket; and when qui- 

 etly settled — never before — should be taken to 

 the proper hive and " run in." 



And again. That basket is fastened to the 

 extension by means of a galvanized-iron sock- 

 et which is part of the forks aforesaid, 

 and can be slipped off when lowered within 

 reach, leaving nothing but basket and forks 

 (with socket for a handle) to tote off to the 

 stand. I was going to improve this shaking 

 pole by making it in two sections of 12 feet 

 each, so as to fit all cases. S. A. Niver. 



Auburn, N. Y. 



TRAVEL-STAIN; A FEW MORE INTERESTING 

 FACTS. 



Friend Root: — I hardly need tell you I was 

 much interested in the articles with criticisms 

 on " travel- stain." While I see as yet no 

 reason for changing my views on the subject, 

 yet I feel that a free discussion is or will be 

 helpful to a full and complete understanding 

 of the subject. At the recent meeting of our 

 State Bee-keepers' Association Mr. W. G. Lar- 

 rabee made the statement that, in the use of 

 combs in an extra super for extracting, he 

 had found that, where he used old combs in 

 which voung bees had been reared, the cap- 

 pings of such combs were travel-stained ; but 

 in new combs, or combs that had not been 

 used for brood -rearing, the cappings were 

 white. A statement was also made by Mr. V. 

 V. Forbes, a very candid man, that, where he 

 had cut down old comb, and the bees had 

 built out new, the part nearest the old comb 

 was darkest, and the color changed to nearly 

 or quite white at the edge furthest from the 

 old comb. 



