GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



OCTOBBB, 192'J 



More About the Bee-Sting Rheumatism Cure. 



Cue day, uot a great wliile ago, Mr. Mid- 

 dlerib read in his favorite paper a para- 

 graph stating that the sting of a bee was a 

 sure cure for rheumatism, and citiug sev- 

 eral remarkable instances in which people 

 had been perfectly cured by this abrupt 

 remedy. Mr. Middlerib thought of the rheu- 

 matic twinges that grappled his knees once 

 in a while and made his life a burden. 



He read the article several times and pon- 

 dered over it. He understood that the 

 stinging must be done scientifically and 

 thoroughly. The bee, as he understood the 

 article, was to be gripped by the ears and 

 set down upon the rheumatic joint and held 

 there until it stung itself stingless. He had 

 some misgivings about the matter. He knew 

 it would hurt. He hardly thought it could 

 hurt au}^ worse than rheumatism, and it had 

 been so many years since he was stung by 

 a bee that he had almost forgotten what it 

 felt like. He had, however, a general feel- 

 ing that it would hurt some. But desperate 

 diseases require desperate remedies, and Mr. 

 Middlerib was willing to undergo any 

 amount of suffering if it would cure his 

 rheumatism. 



He contracted with Master Middlerib for 

 a limited supply of bees humming and buzz- 

 ing about in the summer air. Mr. Middlerib 

 did not know how to get them. He felt, 

 however, that he could safely depend upon 

 the instincts and methods of boyhood. He 

 knew that if there was any way under 

 heaven whereby the shyest bee that ever 

 lifted a 200-pound man off the clover could 

 be induced to enter a wide-mouthed glass 

 bottle, his son knew that way. 



For the small sum of one dime Master 

 Middlerib agreed to procure several, to wit: 

 six bees, sex and age not specified; but, as 

 Mr. Middlerib was left in uncertainty as 

 to the race, it was made obligatory upon the 

 contractor to have three of them honey and 

 three humble, or, in the general accepted 

 vernacular, bumblebees. Mr. M. did not 

 tell his son what he wanted these bees for, 

 and the boy went off on his mission with 

 his head so full of astonishment that it fairly 

 whirled. Evening brings all home, and the 

 last rays of the declining sun fell upon Mas- 

 ter Middlerib, with a short, Avide-mouthed 

 bottle comfortably populated with hot ill- 

 natured bees, and Mr. Middlerib and a dime. 

 The dime and the bottle changed hands. Mr. 

 Middlerib put the bottle in his coat pocket 

 and went into the house, eyeing everybody 

 he met very suspiciously, as though he had 

 made up his mind to sting to death the 

 first person who said "bee" to him. He 

 confided his guilty secret to none of his fam- 

 ily. He hid his bees in his bedroom, and as 

 he looked at them just before jnitting them 

 away he half wished the experiment was 

 safely over. He Avishcd the imprisoned bees 



did not look so hot and cross. With exqui- 

 site care he submerged the bottle in a basin 

 of water and let a few drops in on the 

 lieated inmates to cool them off. 



At the tea-table he had a great fright. 

 Miss Middlerib, in the artless simplicity of 

 her romantic nature, said: "I smell bees. 

 How the odor brings up — " But her father 

 glared at her, and said, with superfluous 

 harshness and execrable grammar: "Hush 

 up! You don't smell nothing." 



Whereupon Mrs. Middlerib asked him if 

 he had eaten anything that disagreed with 

 him, and Miss Middlerib said: "Why, pa!" 

 and Master Middlerib smiled as he won- 

 dered. 



Bedtime at last, and the night was warm 

 and sultry. Under various false pretenses, 

 Mr. Middlerib strolled about the house until 

 everybody else Avas in bed, and then he 

 sought his room. He turned the lamp down 

 until its feeble ray shone dimly as a death- 

 light. 



Mr. Middlerib disrobed slowly — verj^ 

 sloAvly. When at last he was ready to go 

 lumbering into his peaceful couch, he heaved 

 a profound sigh, so full of apprehension and 

 grief that Mrs. Middlerib, who Avas aAvak- 

 ened by it, said if it gaA^e him so much pain 

 to come to bed perhaps he had better sit up 

 all uiglit. Mr. Middlerib choked another 

 sigh, but said nothing and crept into bed. 

 After lying still a fcAV moments he reached 

 out and got his bottle of bees. 



It was not an easy thing to do to pick one 

 bee out of the bottleful Avith his fingers and 

 not get into trouble. The first bee Mr. Mid- 

 dlerib got Avas a little broAvn honeybee, that 

 Avouldn't weigh half an ounce if you picked 

 him up by the ears, but if you lifted him by 

 the hijid leg Avould Aveigh as much as the 

 last end of a bay mule. Mr. Middlerib could 

 not repress a groan. "What's the matter 

 with you?" sleepily asked his Avife. It was 

 very hard for Mr. Middlerib to say he only 

 felt hot. but he did it. He didn't have to 

 lie about it, either. He did feel very hot 

 indeed — about 86° all over, and 197° on the 

 end of his thumb. He roA^ersed the bee and 

 pressed the Avarlike terminus of it firmly 

 against the rheumatic knee. It didn't hurt 

 so badly as he thought it would. It didn't 

 hurt at all. 



Tlien Mr. Middlerib remembered that 

 Avhen a honeybee stabs a human foe it gen- 

 erally leaA'es its harpoon in the Avound, and 

 the invalid knew that the only thing this 

 bee had to sting with Avas doing its Avork at 

 the end of his thumb. 



He reached his arm out from under the 

 sheets and dropped this disabled atom of 

 rheumatism liniment on the carpet. Then, 

 after a second blank Avonder, he began to 

 feel around for the bottle, and Avished he 

 knew wliat he did Avith it. 



