AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL. 



371 



its origin back to the magnificent forests 

 of the geological carboniferous epoch. 



Turpentine is the distillation of the 

 sap drawn from the pine trees of North 

 and South Carolina, while our rosin of 

 commerce is the residue. Copal varnish 

 is made from the hard gum of an extinct 

 forest, only found in Australia about 8 

 feet beneath the surface soil. It re- 

 quires about 750° of heat to melt it. 

 Shellac varnish is made from the excre- 

 ment, offal or dung of a fly that lives In 

 Ceylon. When a person travels, I claim 



to make apiculture a grand and glorious 

 industry. 



But although President Harrison 

 seems to glory in the fast decreasing 

 wood area of the United States (when at 

 Malone, N. Y., he said: "We have in 

 large part completed our great works of 

 internal improvement. The forests liave 

 fallen before the axes of our pioneers, 

 and the plow now turns the soil of all 

 that region which we once styled the 

 ' far, great West' "), we should not shut 

 our eyes and wink at the actual condi- 



Ohio State Building at the World's Columbian Exposition, in 1893. 



that, to use a vulgar word, he should 

 use his " gall," and " nose around," and 

 build up intellectually as well as physi- 

 cally. 



We are now flying through the beauti- 

 ful fields of Northern Ohio. The api- 

 aries here, no doubt attributable to the 

 energies of "A. I. R.," are quite numer- 

 ous. The immaculate buckwheat fields 

 stare us in the countenance, and we are 

 constrained to believe that the raising 

 of buckwheat could be carried on exten- 

 sively and advantageously in the upper 

 portion of the Buckeye State. 



Bee-keepers, you have seen your lovely 

 lindens swept from the soil ; you have 

 seen your farina-bearing, hard sugar 

 maples turned into lasts, and now it 

 should behoove each and every one of 

 you to do your uttermost to secure the 

 extensive planting of buckwheat, so as 



tion of affairs, but — remembering that 

 with the upbuilding of the forests, sac- 

 charine and otherwise, apiculture will 

 surely augment itself and become a 

 grander and more powerful industry — 

 plant, plant, plant; and what? TREES. 

 Well, Toledo, lyiug on the shallow 

 shores of the deceptive Lake Erie, we 

 now enter, where a Michigan Central 

 locomotive stands waiting to carry us on. 

 After replenishing the inner man, we 

 are sailing through the Peninsular State 

 toward Detroit. The train pulls up at 

 her nice depot in a drizzling rain. After 

 having my satchel checked — this is a 

 good thing to do when you are are in a 

 strange city — I started out to hunt hotel 

 accommodations. Did I succeed ? Well 



Detroit seemed to be crowded to her 



uttermost, and I thought that in this 

 wise it was one of the most damnable 



