344 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Mar. 1 



older. They have quite a little vocabulary 

 (the one God gave them), and I do not know 

 any sweeter music than to listen to their baby 

 language. In a very little time they can be 

 taught to let you pick them up; and if you 

 are not very careful you can almost hear 

 them say, "Be gentle, please; remember I 

 am so very little. ' ' I once hit with my foot 

 the one that would run after me, and tum- 

 bled him over and over in the dirt. His ex- 

 clamation of surprise and astonishment was 

 ludicrous. It seemed to say, "Oh! oh I oh! 

 how is it possible that you, who claim to be 

 such a friend of poor little me, should knock 

 me about in that style?" 



When it comes to expressing thanks for 

 any service rendered, a little chicken is ahead 

 of the world. They are full of jokes and 

 pleasantries. At a very early age they will 

 pretend to want to fight with their comrades. 

 Who told them about fighting? They will 

 ape their busy mother, and try to do every 

 thing they see her do, in a way that is truly 

 comical. We have read that flowers have 

 sometimes turned wicked men from their 

 evil ways. It seems to me that any one who 

 gets really closely acquainted with a little 

 chick, learns that beautifully expi'essive little 

 talk, and what it means, must be a better 

 man or woman ever afterward. 



This opens the way for the second of my 

 two texts. I purchased a pretty good grade 

 of White Leghorn rooster to put with my five 

 pullets; and when the eggs of his parentage 

 began to hatch out I was on the watch you 

 may be sure. The chicks, sure enough, were 

 of a golden yellow, brighter than the yellow- 

 est Italian bees. I petted them and loved 

 them; and when, a few hours later, the shin- 

 ing silvery wing feathers began to shoot out 

 (faster than plants grow in my cloth-covered 

 greenhouse) I admired them almost every 

 hour. Then the coal-oil episode came, and 

 one after another I was compelled to see the 

 little lives go out in spite of thorough wash- 

 ings and all that I could do. I got home- 

 sick. I don't know but 1 almost got the 

 blues. I reasoned with myself, and said: 



"Old fellow! you are overlooking all your 

 many great blessings, and getting cross 

 about the loss of a few cents' worth of chick- 

 ens. While the great cities ai'e rejoicing 

 and thanking God for the wonderful work 

 of Torrey and Gypsey Smith, to say nothing 

 of the great crusade for temperance, you are 

 narrowing your life down to this latest hob- 

 by of yours, and losing your peace of mind 

 when, more than likely, it is God's plan, 

 and what you need, to have a little disap- 

 pointment right here. 



Yes, friends, I prayed over it. It was. of 

 course, not the value of the chickens, but fac- 

 ing the probability that they would likely A'eep 

 on dying. I was, however, contrary and 

 stubborn. I ordered one of the best fifty-egg 

 incubators by express, and, to get over the 

 stubbornness' I used David's prayer — "Cre- 

 ate in me a clean heart. O God, and renew 

 a right spirit within me." 



I am still in favor of hens for mothers. 

 My five pullets are one-fourth Brazilian 



games, and three-fourths White Leghorns^ 

 The following extract from a letter will tell 

 you why I want some game blood in my 

 sitting hens: 



A well-bred game hen will keep hawks away from 

 her brood. She will fight away cats, dogs, or almost 

 any thing. Not even a man can take one without a 

 fight. I have a little game hen of only 3% lbs. weight 

 that fought and whipped a large-sized chicken-hawk 

 that on two occasions had tried to catch one of her 

 little ones. The second hawk had succeeded in catch- 

 ing one of the chicks, but she caught him on the fly, 

 at least ten feet above the ground, brought him to 

 the ground with her, and whipped him oil. Some 

 time ago I threw a good-sized hawk with a broken 

 wing in with a pen of three hens and a cock to see 

 the result. The cock killed the hawk in about three 

 minutes. Wilson Wright. 



Braidentown, Fla,, Feb. 9. 



Well, there was one Jull-hlood^ game chick 

 among the "oiled ones." He was a big 

 strong lusty fellow, and he and I were par- 

 ticular friends. He told me his troubles, 

 and I came pretty near telling him mine. 

 He held on and pulled manfully for life, but 

 I had to see him draw his last breath. 



"FIGHTING MOTHERS." 



While we are about it I am not sure but 

 that it is the fighting mothers that are going 

 to redeem the world. Our recent and great 

 victories over the rum traffic are, no doubt, 

 the woi'k largely of fighting mothers. 



An incubator weighing only 10 lbs., if a. 

 really good one could be made so light, 

 would be a great boon because it could be 

 sent by express, as, many times, it is very 

 inconvenient to wait for the slow motions of 

 freight shipments. But another considera- 

 tion comes in here. I notice many of the 

 testimonials in regard to the more expensive 

 machines say, "No cripples in hatches from 

 this machine." Are we to infer from this 

 that cheap machines, or, perhaps, X)Oor ma- 

 chines, rather, are likely to produce crippled 

 chickens? and this reminds me that I have 

 had half a dozen or more crippled chickens. 

 Perhaps the Hvimane Society should have a 

 word to say in regard to any traffic that 

 tends to bring crippled animals into the 

 world. God grant that our United States of 

 America may have like jurisdiction over 

 any traffic that shall be the means of bring- 

 ing crippled (or imbecile) humanity into the 

 world. 



AN ARGUMENT IN FAVOR OF THE STAINLESS FLAG. 



I Still remain a bee-enthusiast, and the pleasure I 

 have in bee-literature is added to by seeing the fear- 

 less fights you wage against the drink and other 

 evils. In reading them and the record of the tri- 

 umphs of good against evil, I myself have often been 

 cheered, and, thanking God, have myself taken cour- 

 age. Drink, however, is not our bane here. With a 

 population of 200,000 I have not seen a case of drunk- 

 enness for some years, and the highest number of ar- 

 rests I have ever seen for tbree months was 23. I 

 have seen it as low as .3. W. G. Hutchinson. 



Boscobel, Barbados, Dec. 19, 1906. 

 The above gives us a most astounding fact 

 and argument in favor of the "Stainless 

 Flag." Just think of it! a city of 200,000 

 people, and no visible drunkenness ! The 

 explanation and reason for this is that there 

 is no tax or license on liquors. The govern- 

 ment is not in partnership with the saloon 

 business. 



