648 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



June 15 



but will rejoice the bee-keeper. Like most 

 of our native plants, this white sage has a 

 long tap-root, and so it reaches far down to 

 drink in moisture and other food elements 

 which serve to push its vigor and growth. 

 It blossoms centripetally— that is, from be- 

 low upward, and is a long time in bloom. 

 Often for five or six weeks the blossoms 

 will be throwing out their bid for bee atten- 

 tion. This fact of long-blooming period is 

 what makes this flower so famous among 

 bee-plants, and what gives to California its 

 pre-eminence as a honey-producing section. 

 I long ago volunteered to be ever ready to 

 act as a "honey-tester." I think I know 

 good honey. I have enjoyed that from 

 basswood, from linden, tulip, mignonette, 

 fruit-bloom, including orange and alfalfa; 

 yet in all my experience I never had any 

 honey that, for flavor and body, surpassed 

 that from the white sage. The sage, then, 

 may be regarded as pre-eminently superior. 

 It gives an exceptionally long season and 

 the best honey. Often, in California, api- 

 aries of hundreds of colonies have secured 

 from two hundred to five hundred pounds per 

 colony. Of course, such extreme records 

 are rare, but they come with all our best 

 seasons. The white sage is largely respon- 

 sible for these exceptional harvests. 



In closing I will say that the black sage is 

 a close second to the white, while some api- 

 arists claim that it is fully equal. It also 

 gives a very superior article and a very 

 long harvest. Its blossoms are in heads 

 rather than racemes, and the shrub is by no 

 means as attractive as the white sage. 



HONEY-DEW. 



Dr. Miller's suggestion regarding honey- 

 dew for bees, like all his words, are worth 

 consideration. I presume it would be no 

 advantage to most of us to give us food 

 already wholly digested. Our stomachs^are 

 better to do the work. Yet if the stomach 

 is weak or overworked, I^think the doctor 

 would speak from his learning and urge 

 food easy to digest, or, better, already 

 digested. We know the bee is always hard- 

 worked in the honey season. We know 

 that, at this season, the bee is short-lived. 

 I did not speak ex cathedra, but stated that 

 possibly the bee might be the gainer in 

 gathering honey-dew which was already di- 

 gested and required no effort on the part of 

 the bee. I still think this is more than prob- 

 able. I have always felt sympathy for any 

 movement that would lessen the labor of the 

 hard-worked. I have always felt happy 

 when I saw bees gathering freely from 

 aphid secretion. I knew that the honey 

 would be first-class, and I felt that there 

 was a little let-up for the hard-worked 

 bees. 



In my article for Gleanings, May 1, the 

 word Gilia is made to read Gilio. May be 

 the gilias would be as beautiful, and as full 

 of nectar, with a new name; but, as with 

 the rose, we prefer the old name. 



MEG APIS, THE GIANT BEES OF THE FAR 

 EAST. 



Our Government After Them. 



BY FRANK BENTON. 



In Charge of Apiculture, United States Departtnent of 

 Agriculture. 



A quarter of a century ! How time flies ! 

 On the 21st of January last, just twenty-five 

 years had rolled past since the first journey 

 to the Orient after Eastern races of bees 

 was undertaken. As the huge Atlantic liner 

 Italy swung out into the broad Hudson on 

 that pleasant winter noon, the good wishes 

 of many of the bee-keepers of Canada and 

 the United States went with a certain little 

 group of three that stood on the main deck, 

 interested observers of the excitement 

 around them— the quick orders of officers, 

 the sound of slipping cables, the hurried 

 footsteps and heaving songs of the agile 

 sailors as they tugged at the great ropes 

 that had just been cast off, the hurried 

 good-byes, and the cheers of crowds on the 

 wharf. The man of large form and good- 

 natured face was none other than our friend 

 D. A. Jones, of Canada. Near him was a 

 "blushing bride" claimed by Frank Ben- 

 ton, of Michigan, who stood opposite the two. 

 " Th-th- there she goes, Benton!" shouted 

 Mr. Jones, his well-known tendency to stut- 

 ter just a bit when excited getting the bet- 

 ter of him. Fortunately he didn't mean 

 "the blushing bride," but the bride of the 

 Atlantic— the good ship Italy. No wonder 

 he was excited. We had had a great run 

 up Broadway. Mr. Jones had spent the 

 night with our friend Mr. A. J. King, edit- 

 or of the Bee-keepers' Magazine, which was 

 then published in New York city. Mrs. 

 Benton and I had come over from Brooklyn ; 

 and, leaving her at a store on Broadway, I 

 had gone with Mr. Jones to the steamer 

 office to make some final arrangements for 

 our journey. Coming out I said to Mr. 

 Jones: "We've no time to lose if we get 

 that steamer," and a dash was made up 

 Broadway toward Wall Street, where our 

 valises had been left and we were to change 

 some money. 



" S-s-say, Benton, d'ye know where you're 

 going?" 



"Yes, come along, Jones." 



We made our legs move. Whenever I 

 turned I saw his solid form swinging ahead; 

 he was puffing, and the crowds made way. 

 Jones averred that, when a tall man didn't 

 give me the right of way, I never stopped, 

 but simply dodged between his legs, jumped 

 over the boot-black sitting on the curbing,. 



