142 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Mar. 



^u^enik §^nariigm^' 



AM a little girl 11 years old. My uncle takes 

 Gleanings, and I like to read it. I would not 

 know how to do without it. My uncle has 20 

 colonies of bees; they are almost all black ones; the 

 remainder are Italians. He keeps his bees in the^ 

 cellar, 19 of them, and one in a chaff hive. My 

 uncle's name is D. M. Welch. I have a swarm; it is 

 in a patent hive, and I would like to have it in a 114 

 story hive. Could you tell me how to do it? I go to 

 two Sunday-schools. I like to read the library 

 books. I would like to get a letter from Blue Eyes. 

 I like bees, but I like honey better still; I like buck- 

 wheat honey better than clover honey, but our bees 

 made boneset honey last summer. It was so bitter 

 that we could not eat it. I used to think that honey 

 was always sweet; but that was bitter. Did you 

 ever taste any like that? Aunt Mardie has six col- 

 onies. She buries hers up in the snow-drift, and 

 digs them out when it thaws. She has kept them 

 that way for 3 years, and they are always all right 

 when spring comes. I like the cartoons, and uncle 

 Dan likes Our H«mes. Jennie SCHERMEiinoRN. 

 Curwinsville, Pa., Fob. 14, 1881. 



Many thanks, Jennie. I have just told 

 "Stella "to send yon a nice book for yonr 

 letter. I think I will tell her to send yon 

 " Silver Keys," for I have just read it, and I 

 like it ever so much. See if yon do not feel 

 sorry for poor Mrs. Sands, when she was 

 trying so hard to do right, when everybody 

 accused her of stealing the funny gold piece. 

 I have seen some honey that was bitter a lit- 

 tle, but I guess it was not as bad as that you 

 had. Give my best wishes to aunt Mardie 

 and imcle Dan. How do you like the car- 

 toon this month? Tell uncle Dan that I 

 said he must put your bees into a better hive 

 for you. 



I think the reason of bees making dark honey is 

 the neglect of the bee-keeper. He just lets the hive 

 go, and does not look into it, so that the hive gets 

 dirty inside; and when the bees gather honey and 

 fill the little holes in the comb, the comb and honey 

 get dirty too; so this is what I think makes dark 

 honey. I am eleven years old. 



Mabel L. Nelson. 



Wyandotte, Kansas, Feb. 8, 1881. 



I fear, friend Mabel, you hardly give the 

 bees credit enough; they are usually the 

 most scrupulously neat in their house-keep- 

 ing, and even if their combs are old and 

 dark, they have them scrubbed and scraped 

 so that they would hardly make the honey 

 dark, if I am correct. Get your pai)a to let 

 you see them some time, when they are 

 " cleaning honse." I am glad, however, yon 

 are studying in regard to'these tilings, and 

 so we send you a book too. 



As papa has not sent in his reports of his bees, I 

 thought I would write and tell vou about them. He 

 has 19 in the cellar, and one chaff hive. I have i of 

 my own. They are in good order. I am 11 years 

 old. I love to go to Sunday-school. I go every Sun- 

 day. My mother is superintendent of our school. 

 My papa is D. M. Welch. He has taken Gleanings 

 6 or 8 years. He thinks he couldn't do without it. 



Mother thinks the Home Papers are splendid. I 

 like the cartoons, for I have to laugh when I see 

 any one running from bees. They don't sting me. 



Charlie Welch. 

 Curwinsville, Clearfield Co., Pa., Feb. 19, 1881. 

 Why, that is a tip-top letter, Charlie. 

 Give my best respects to your father and 

 mother, and thank them for their good opin- 

 ions. With such a father and mother, I can 

 not really see how yon can help growing up 

 a good boy. We send yon a book for your 

 letter too; tell us how yon like it when you 

 write again. I suppose Jennie is your cousin. 



My bees are gone where the woodbine twineth, 

 but you must not put me in with the Blasted Kopers. 

 Papa's bees are all dead; they all died with the 

 cholera. When it got warm enongh to open them 

 we found them dead and all daubed over with their 

 filth, with plenty of honey in the hives. I have not 

 given up yet. I will keep bees and will try until I 

 learn to keep them safely. Papa has sent to the 

 South for some bees. There are only a few bees 

 left in this county. W^heu we make candy for our 

 bees we spread a paper in the dish and pour the 

 candy in on the paper. It comes out nice, and the 

 paper sticks to the candy, and we put it in the hives 

 with the paper up, and press the covers down tight. 

 Try this and see if you do not like it. Our bees were 

 out. what were alive, January 30th. They had a 

 good fly. It has been raining three days and nights. 

 The rivers are getting high. Papa sends you money 

 for Gleanings; we can not do without it. I like to 

 read all the papers. We take four of (hem. 



Freddie L. Craycraft. 



Salem, Wash. Co., Ind., Feb. 9, 1881. 



Yery good, Ereddie. I am glad yon do 

 not want to be among the ]ilasted Ilopers, 

 and I am glad, too, that you like to read the 

 papers. Tell us how you like the book we 

 send you this time. 



/i?%UR bees, 90 swarms, all right thus far, on their 



||J9) summer stands, with ehtff cushions in the 



— cap. W& protected them by banking up ori 



three sides (leaving the front open), with straw and 



coarse litter from the horse stable. For the past 



two months we have had plenty of snow, so the 



brood-chamber has been protected from the severe 



cold. Bees had a purifying flight on the 9th of Feb. 



White clover all right under the snow. 



Mrs. L. Harrison. 

 Peoria, 111., Feb. 13, 1S81. 



Well done, w^ell done, Mrs. II. I am sure 

 I shall never say again that women can not 

 keep bees. Why, we have had such a dismal 

 string of reports from Blasted Ilopers for 

 the past few Aveeks that I had thought 

 seriously of advertising for the names of a 

 few, if there were any .such, who had not lost 

 all their bees. Vou see, I wanted to have these 

 few names to hold the A 35 C class up, ior 

 fear they would all get demoralized and put 

 off in one vast stampede. Ninety colonies, 

 and all, all right, out west on the prairies on 

 their summer stands, and only a woman — 

 beg pardon, my friend ; you know I was 

 just saying what others say, in that conclud- 



