1899 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



505 



the queen and brood, while the other part of 

 the brood-chamber, filled with open-end or 

 Hoffman frames, would be filled with honey. 



This impressed me greatly ; so I sent in a 

 rush order to my supply -dealer for 80 boards, 

 14x8>4 inches, and ^ inch thick. By using 

 a strong leather strap I turned my ten-frame 

 hives upside down ; removed the bottom, and 

 inserted one of these thin boards between the 

 end-bars and the end of the hive at each end. 

 Before putting these boards in I folded three 

 layers of burlap over them in such a way that 

 it would be impossible for the bees to glue 

 them in fast. In removing one of these boards 

 the burlap or other cloth would peel off the 

 end-bars as easily as pulling a quilt off top- 

 bars. So you see I went into winter quarters 

 with my 41 colonies on closed-end combs. 

 One colony was allowed to go into winter 

 confinement queenless. It wintered well, and 

 was strong enough in bees in March, when it 

 allowed itself to be robbed, joined the ban- 

 dits, and went home with them loaded with 

 their own honey. The 40 other colonies win- 

 tered nicely on the summer stands, with cork- 

 dust cushions in the supers. 



As I did not make money enough the first 

 year to pay my rent and support my family I 

 went to Buffalo to get work for the winter. 

 The only work I was able to get was that of a 

 street-car conductor. Every thing went along 

 smoothly till spring was approaching. When 

 I took the job I made up my mind that I 

 should have to banish bees from my thoughts 

 for a few months or I should get into trouble ; 

 and I actually did succeed in keeping my fe- 

 ver under control for three or four months, 

 and then I began to figure on bee-supplies for 

 the coming season, and then it was that every 

 thing on my car began to go wrong. I cut up 

 all sorts of capers. Sometimes I would pull 

 the wrong rope when I wanted to ring the 

 bell. Instead of ringing the bell to go ahead 

 I would pull the trolley down off the wire, ab- 

 sent-mindedly ; and one day I punched a 

 transfer for a passenger, gave him my punch, 

 and put the transfer into my pocket. These 

 things were bad enough ; but one day I re- 

 ceived a letter from home, saying that the 

 bees were so strong in numbers, and there were 

 so many apple-trees in blossom, that the bees 

 were liable to swarm any day. This was too 

 much. After that I did not know whether I 

 was conductor or passenger. A passenger 

 boarded my car, and I forgot to collect his 

 fare. To pay for this I had to work three 

 days without pay. Well, I soon gave the job 

 up, and returned home just in time to get my 

 supers ready for the white-clover flow. 



Eden, N. Y., March 31. 



To be continued. 



RAMBLE 170. 



BY RAMBLER. 



picturesque garb of furs. Tales of fabulous 

 wealth were rife (tales, by the way, never 

 applied to bee-keepers) ; then there were 

 stories of hardship and death. Of the latter 

 the half has never been told. In the mad 

 scramble for gold the dead are soon forgotten, 

 and the rich strikes are the only features that 

 are published abroad. 



To a person who has been basking in the 

 sunshine of Southern California for several 

 years those furry garments suggested a tem- 

 perature for which I was little fitted, and I 

 concluded to purchase a ticket for San Fran- 

 cisco and defer my visit until a more auspi- 

 cious season. I expected, of course, to have a 

 cabin mate upon the trip, and wondered with 

 what kind of a genus homo my lot would be 

 cast. I went aboard the steamer early in the 

 morning, and one of the polite attendants 

 showed me my state room. My companion 

 de voyage had evidently been there before me, 

 and deposited a large bandbox. I dropped 

 my grip, and proceeded to examine this sus- 

 picious-looking box ; for who ever heard of a 

 man carrying a bandbox ? and, sure enough, 

 there plainly written upon the top were these 

 words, " Mrs. C. B Chapman, state room 118." 



You can but faintly imagine how embarrass- 

 ed I felt in the presence of the very name of 

 that married woman. The cold chills chased 

 each other up and down my spinal column. 

 I critically examined the box again, and there 



While in Seattle I came near having the 

 Klondike fever. Miners were coming in from 

 that new mining country, and it was not un- 

 usual to meet them upon the street in their 



was no denying the fact that my room mate 

 was a "Mrs.;" and, sitting down, I pondered 

 the subject, wondering what I had done to 

 merit such a fate as this ; and here I was alone 

 in a far country, with no friend to hold out a 

 protecting hand. I felt so nervous that I 

 stepped out of the state room, and, leaning 

 upon the railing, looked down into the green 

 waters of the harbor. All was peace below 

 the surface. It was a wicked thought, but I 

 was almost persuaded to cast that miserable 

 bandbox overboard ; but wishing to do no 

 injustice to any person I calmed down several 



