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GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



November, 1917 



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OUR FOOD PAGE 



Stancy Puerden 



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LET me tell 

 you a story. 

 Five years 

 ago a very busy 

 man, manager 

 of a chain of 

 theaters thrnout 

 the eastern part 

 of the country, 



broke down i]i health. No food seemed 

 to agree with him, and he was so reduced 

 in flesh that he weighed only ninety-six 

 imunds. When he left his office to go home 

 at night his private secretary scarcely ex- 

 jected to see him alive again, as he was so 

 extremely frail. The doctors not being able 

 to help him find a diet that agreed with 

 liim, he began to experiment for himself. I 

 don't know just how much experimenting he 

 did before he began eating honey, but he 

 found that it agreed with him. For five 

 years he has been eating honey in large 

 quantities and very little other food. He 

 has eaten as much as three pounds of honey 

 in a single day. For lunch he has a section 

 of honey and a glass of buttermilk. I don't 

 know whether he eats the whole section. 

 He is now sixty-four years of age, weighs 

 one hundred and fifty pounds, and, best of 

 all, he is turning out more work than he 

 ever did before in his life. He himself told 

 this to the head of the Puerden household, 

 who was showing him around The Home of 

 the Honey Bees. One rather strange fea- 

 ture of the case is that it must be comb 

 honey. He says extracted honey seems to 

 have lost that peculiar quality which makes 

 it agree Avith him so well. He does not care 

 yiartieulaily for the white honeys; indeed, 

 he shares one strange taste with the Puerden 

 family (all the family but Stancy, who 

 hates it) in that he likes buckwheat honey 

 and thrives on it. Mr. Puerden gave him 

 a couple of sections of honey over a year 

 old, and asked him to test them and report. 

 He said in substance, " I can tell you right 

 now if you wish to know about old honey. 

 I like it and rather prefer it." His way of 

 buying honey is to send for a section at 

 a time until he finds some just to his liking, 

 and then he sends back and gets the whole 

 case. Don't you think he deserves the title 

 *' The Honey Man " even more than A. I. 

 Root, for he must be literally made of 

 honey ? 



T have told you this story just as it came 

 to me. Don't jump to the conclusion that 

 I am going to feed my two growing boys 

 and small girl on an exclusive honey diet, 

 altho it would simplify housework very 

 much, wouldn't it? The Puerden family 

 will still eat as well balanced a ration as I 

 can manage, but my respect for honey as a 



1 



%J 



ford is increas- 

 ing all the time. 

 I w o n d e r if 

 Uncle Sam is 

 not making a 

 mistake in ask- 

 ing us to use 

 honey to release 

 more sugar for 

 export. Perhaps if honey were added to 

 the daily ration of the soldiers it would so 

 inciease their energy that the war would 

 soon be ended ! 



ANOTHER STORY. 



May I tell you another story ? May be the 

 managing editor will re-christen this de- 

 partment "The Story Hour;" but, honest- 

 ly, these stories are true, and they jnst 

 wouldn't keep. 



Some years ago, when T had time to be 

 a member of a literary club, the subject 

 '' Pure Food " was assigned to me. It was 

 a gocd subject, but cjuite beyond my powers, 

 and 1 began to look around for help. One 

 of my brothers handed me a book, 

 '' Starving America," by Alfred W. Mc- 

 Cann. Well, that book took hold of me 

 and never let go until I had read it clear 

 thru. I had always been more or less in- 

 terested in food values, and considered my- 

 self fairly well informed; but that book was 

 an eye-opener. My club paper was nothing 

 but a review of the book, as comprehensive 

 as I could make it in the limited time allot- 

 ted rae. When I finished reading the paper 

 there was a little round of applause, and I 

 had to make haste to disclaim any credit, 

 as the paper was entirely from the book. 

 Today Mr. Puerden called me up and told 

 me Alfred McCann was on his way to visit 

 The Home of the Honey Bees. I begged 

 to be allowed to entertain him at lunch, and 

 the powers that be thought it might be ar- 

 ranged. It was on Tuesday, ironing day; 

 my young Hungarian helper was busy with 

 the ironing; there were various vegetables 

 threatening to spoil if I did not get them 

 into cans — and the managing editor had 

 just called me up (or down) to say my copy 

 must be handed in at once. I told the man- 

 aging editor he and the vegetables would 

 have to wait. It pays to be firm with edi- 

 tors. Then I proceeded to prepare the fol- 

 lowing menu : 



Broiled ground steak 



Scalloped potatoes 



Steamed summer squash 



Tomato, green pepper, and cucumber salad 



Hoe cake.s Comb honey 



Grapes 



Everything but the meat and the corn- 

 m.eal came from our own garden, and in a 

 few weeks we shall have our cornmeal, home 



