JlLY, 1917 



GLEANINGS IN B E K C U L T U R E 



535 



smeared with honey; the string, once picked 

 up, declintHl to be dropped; the gloves were 

 tlirown away in disgust, and then " I got 

 so interested tliat I forgot bees could sting 

 till I put ray tinger on one." It was all 

 great fun at the time; and later, after 

 watching an expert beekeeper do some 

 transferring, he decided he had made a 

 pretty fair job of it too. 



When he first went to Te.xas there was 

 horsemint ever^'where, thousands of acres of 

 it, but the honey was too hot to eat. Now 

 it is made from cotton, mostly, with " the 

 balance a Duke's Mixture." 



As I have never been bee-hunting, and 

 have always wanted to go, I was particular- 

 ly interested in a bee-hunt ]\Ir. Cameron 

 took with two friends, two Mexicans, a good 

 dinner, jug's of water, and a dozen water- 

 melons (which is quite my idea of a proper 

 spirit of preparedness). The two agile 

 Mexicans would climb a big live oak, twenty 

 to forty feet, and " chop as unconcerned as 

 tho they were on the ground and it was 

 houseflies buzzing about them." 



It isn't much of a bee country around 

 Bloomington. Mr, Cameron says. He has 

 only a few hives now. Swarming is difficult 

 to control, and a large part of the time the 

 Gulf breezes are too strong for the bees to 

 do much. '' My main crop," he says, prov- 

 ing himself a true bee-lover in the saying, 

 " is the pleasure I get from them. I love 

 to nail the hives, put in full sheets of foun- 

 dation, hive the swarms, and watch them 

 housekeeping. I love to go among the bees 

 at night, put my ear to the hive, and listen 

 to that musical hum." 



The present times, Mr. Cameron writes 

 sadly, recall vividly the gloomy days of the 

 war between the states, and set old memories 

 stirring of IMorgan's raid and Sherman's 

 march to the sea. 



* * ti 



In a great i:)ile of accumulated (and, I 

 regret to say, unacknowledged) letters from 

 beekeepers I came across this today. Need 

 I introduce the writer to the readers of 

 Gleanings ? 



eat honey. 



" The shades of night were coming down, 



When there wandered thru an Iowa town 

 A man who bore, liigh in the air, 



A sign that made the people stare: 



Eat Honey. 

 "Oh stay!" the farmer cried, "and chew 



Some hog 'n hominy 'n Irish stew." 

 The stranger winked a crafty eye. 



Then smiled and answered, " No, sir. I 



E<it JJoiu')/." 

 About eleven P. m. that night 



They found him sleeping snug and tight. 

 Some cue had added to his sign 



(Some beekeeper with deep design) 



" Eat Bonney Honey." 



When it comes to deep designs and the 

 working of them into clever and unusual ad- 

 vertising schemes, we all take off our b'e- 

 veils to Dr. Bonney, of Buck Grove, Iowa, 

 to whom I offer thanks for the verses above. 

 He is not responsible for the one below. 



With hollyhocks a-bloomin' 



'N roses all aroun' 

 'N little bees a-hummin' 



With such a lazy soun', 

 Who wants to write a Sideline 



Or pen a Dixie beo, 

 Or do a thing but listen 



'N smell 'n look? Not me! 

 * * » 



" M}' bees never even tried to swarm last 

 summer. Would that be a sign of weak- 

 ness?" Not necesarily, yet in connection 

 with the fact that they were in bad shape 

 wlien you got them in March, moths having 

 been allowed to get in (which is a sign of 

 weakness), it is probable that they did not 

 build up enough to feel any crowded condi- 

 tion to tempt them to swarm — not that bees 

 never swarm when not croAvded, but that 

 Ihey are almost sure to do so when they are. 

 Weak colonies do swarm (more's the pity), 

 but strong ones can scarcely be restrained, 

 vsave by eternal precaution and persistence. 



Geo. .1. Trestle, of Sibley, Iowa, with a second 

 swarm of three-banded Italians. A picture of Mr. 

 Trostle's apiary in town appears on page 44 of the 

 .Taiuiarv number. 



