718 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Oct. 1. 



netting, besides being cheap, is of large mesh, 

 and allows a free circulation of air. The col- 

 or, also, adds to the comfort. 



And the hat — I almost forgot that. It looks 

 like an ordinary wash-basin bottom up. I do 

 not use that habitually, but put it on just for 

 effect. It belongs to Sam Wong Sing, a hea- 

 then Chinee. He was sent up as helper in one 

 of the tunnels ; and, though the Chinamen 

 here use American hats, Sam brought this one 

 along so that it would protect his head from 

 the dripping water in the tunnel. 



I hope the readers of Gleanings will no- 

 tice how I have reformed during the prepara- 

 tion of the two last Rambles. I was in hopes 

 to continue the reformation ; but so far as my 

 new inventions are concerned, my stock of 

 them is about exhausted — the pond has run 

 dry. Then Mr. Brodbeck has secured my ser- 

 vices to go with him to the mountains on a 

 prospecting-trip. It is a " gold-mine or bust, ' ' 

 and, having him for company, I greatly fear 

 that I shall have a relapse from my excellent 

 resolutions. Any way, I will let you know all 

 about the goldmine. 



THE UNCERTAINTIES OF BEE-KEEPING. 



Some Records of Past Honey Crops. 



BY H. LATHROP. 



ADVANCE, AUSTRALIA; AFTER APIS DORSATA. SEE PAGE ~2» 



There is no branch of agriculture so apt to 

 mislead a beginner, and inflate him with the 

 belief that a fortune for him is just ahead, as 

 that of bee-keeping. He figures from results 

 that he has secured on a small scale, and ar- 

 gues that all he has to do in order to bring 

 about the same results on a larger scale is to 

 increase the business. So argues the novice; 

 but sooner or later he strikes an adverse sea- 

 son, and, lo ! his bubble is burst, and he be- 

 gins to realize some of the uncertainties in 

 this line of business. Then he may go to the 

 other extreme of discouragement, and dispose 

 of his few remaining colonies for about what 

 the bare hives cost him in the first place. He 

 should not do so, however, but take care of 

 his hives and combs; do the best he can, and 

 wait for better conditions. Other branches 

 are subject to failures. The farmer is never 

 certain of a crop when he puts in the seed, 

 but on the whole his occu- 

 pation is as certain to bring 

 results as any other, and 

 more so than many. So it 

 is with bee-keeping. We 

 can form a correct estimate 

 of the relative value of the 

 industry, as compared with 

 others, only by taking a 

 number of years together. 

 For my locality I have rec- 

 ords of each season dating 

 back to 1885, during which 

 season we had a very small 

 crop of honey; still, it could 

 not be called a failure. 



The season of 1886 was an 

 ideal one. White clover was 

 abundant, and lasted a long 

 time ; basswood could not 

 be better than it was then. 

 I remember how one could 

 literally see and taste the 

 clear shining nectar in the 

 blossoms. The season of 

 1887 was a failure on account 

 of extreme drouth. The sea- 

 son of 1888 was phenomenal 

 in honey-production. Bees 

 came out rather weak in 

 spring, but built up on white 

 clover, getting in shape for 

 basswood, which lasted three 

 full weeks. When basswood 

 closed, the bees began work- 

 ing on the large wild sun- 

 flowers and other autumn 

 flowers, which continued to 

 yield honey until frost came. 

 During that season I had 

 colonies that produced over 

 200 pounds of comb honey 

 in one-pound boxes ; others 

 did nearly as well. One hun- 

 dred colonies of bees in 

 good condition to begin the 



