AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



403 



be your right-hand men in 25, 30 or 40 

 years from now. See ? Let us begin to 

 walk now, so that we may be strong men 

 then. 



Woodside, N. C, Sept. 1, 1898. 



A|>i-Plirenology — ^iome Ideas on 

 a New Bce-lSubject. 



iVritten for the American Bee Journal 



BY DR. J. D. GEHRING. 



Mr. Luthy had " kept bees " for about 

 15 years, he told me ; but as he was in 

 other business he never allowed his bees 

 to increase beyond 12 or 16 "stands." 

 His way of preventing increase was a 

 good thing for me, who was only a be- 

 ginner when I made his acquaintance. 



One day in the early part of June, he 

 sent me word that there was a big swarm 

 out, and if I wanted it for a dollar I 

 should come and " hive it." Of course I 

 went. Such an opportunity to secure 

 " increase " was not to be despised. 



Before that season was over, Mr. 

 Luthy wanted to know why he got so 

 little surplus honey, and I got so much. 

 At the end of the next season he was so 

 disgusted with his bees that he offered 

 me " the whole outfit" very cheap, and 

 I bought him out. After I had bought 

 his bees I told him why I got more honey 

 than he, from a less number of colonies 

 than he had. 



Some people keep bees a good many 

 years before they learn that it's the 

 young colonies that get the honey. 



Well, as before stated, I went down to 

 Mr. Luthy's that June day to hive that 

 swarm. I had a high degree of confi- 

 dence in his knowledge and ability as a 

 bee-keeper, and he shared that confi- 

 dence. He knew that I was " only a 

 beginner." But he did not know that I 

 had studied "Bees and Honey," and all 

 the bee-literature I could get hold of, for 

 a year before i hived that swarm. Nor 

 did he know that, before I took to bees, 

 I had dabbled in phrenology to some ex- 

 tent, and had a fanatical idea that that 

 " Science" could be applied to bees as 

 well as to " humans." 



Now, it is a well-known fact to bee- 

 keepers, that scarcely two of them can 

 be found who can agree in their theories 

 and views about bees. Well-informed 

 though they may be, there are always a 

 few things to speculate and experiment 

 on, and, as each one has his own way of 

 doing things, so each one learns things 

 best his own way. They are also, as n 

 class, "awfully sot" in their opinions — 



a quality of character which seems to be 

 essential to a successful bee-keeper. A 

 want of stick-to-ativeness accounts for 

 many failures in all things. 



As Mr. Luthy and I sat under the 

 shade of an apple-tree, watching the 

 eager going-out and coming-in of the 

 bees, he said abruptly : "Bees are as 

 blind as a bat, Mr. G. ; did you know it ?" 



I confessed promptly that I did not, 

 and rather modestly expressed a doubt 

 on the subject. But he met that doubt 

 by saying, "That's because you don't 

 know much yet about bees. But I can 

 prove my assertion to you in two min- 

 utes, right here and now. See, here! I 

 place myself right before this hive (suit- 

 ing the action to the word), where the 

 bees are coming and going by the hun- 

 dred. There ! don't you see how they 

 run against me ? Would they do that if 

 they could see me ? We don't learn 

 everything about bees in bee-books, you 

 see !" 



Mr. Luthy's "demonstration" hadn't 

 convinced me, but I knew it would be 

 useless to argue with him on the subject, 

 so I took my new swarm and went 

 home. After patting the hive in its 

 place, I took my camp-stool to a shady 

 spot and sat down to watch those bees 

 go to work. It was about 3 o'clock, 

 p.m. The weather was very warm. In 

 a few minutes I was fast asleep, and 

 dreaming. 



I was sitting with Mr. Luthy under 

 an apple-tree in his apiary. He had 

 just demonstrated to me in a practical 

 way (?) that " Bees are as blind as a 

 bat." I considered the proof insulficient, 

 and the assertion too bold ; and, forget- 

 ting my youth and inexperience as a 

 bee-keeper, I began to argue and reason 

 with Mr. Luthy, as nearly as I can now 

 recall to memory, like this: 



" Mr. Luthy, bees have some sort of 

 sense. You may call it instinct if you 

 like, but I challenge you to prove that it 

 isn't sense. Now, if they have sense, 

 they must have some sort of intelligence; 

 and intelligence implies the possession 

 of intellect. The intellect, no matter 

 what the degree, must have an organ 

 through which to manifest itself. That 

 organ we call the brain. Bees have a 

 brain. That brain is phrenologically 

 divided into organs and faculties. I 

 don't claim, of course, that they have as 

 many of these as man, but I do claim 

 that those peculiar to them are as 

 sharply defined, functionally, as are the 

 faculties in the human brain. 



"Now, I shall demonstrate my theory 

 to you just as conclusively as you did 



