1883 



JUVENILE GLEANINGS. 



159 



Place in great stones, and willows thence to land, (1) 

 That on these bridges bees may crowded stand, 

 And spread their winglets in the summer sun. 

 If luckless chance befall some lingering one, 

 If rough east wind should sprinkle them with spray. 

 Or headlong plunge in dangerous Neptune's way. (2) 



PLANTING FOR PASTURAGE. 



About these places there should freely bloom (3) 

 Green cassia, and in fullness of perfume 

 Wild thyme; and in abundance should there be 

 The strongly breathing flowers of savory: 

 Let violet-beds adown the mossy side 

 Drink deep the hidden fountains as they glide. 



HIVE-MAKING. 



Moreover, then, the subject to pursue, 



Whether the hive itself be made for you 



Of the carved cork, (i) or willows woven o'er, (.5) 



A hive should surely have a narrow door; (6) 



For winter hardens honey with its cold: 



Melted with heat, it can not be controllpd; 



And thus 'tis plain, excess in each of these 



Alike is to be dreaded by the bees: 



And not in vain they stop the holes with wax. 



And fill, with mortar from the flowers, (7) the crncks. 



The glue collected for this special use 



Is tougher yet than birdlime's sticky juice. 



And firmer holds the ramparts of their lair 



Than Ida's pitch which Phrygians prepare. 



NATURAL HIVES. 



And oft, indeed, if common fame be true. 

 Under the earth in caverns hid from view (8) 

 Their household gods they worship and embrace. 

 And live and thrive, and propagate their race. 

 Deep hid in hollow pumice stone profound. 

 And eaten cavities of trees they're found. 



WINTERING, AND IMPORTANT MAXIMS. 



Look to their chinky chambers in due time, 

 And plaster well ai-ound with yielding lime: 

 Put loosely o'er a mass of forest leaves. 

 While roof of yew the winter rain receives. ['.)) 

 Trust not your hives by marshes on the coast. 

 Nor on the hearth the reddening lobsters roast; (10) 

 Nor where bad smells arise from filthy mire; 

 Nor where the concave rocks aloft retire — 

 Each airy pulse such rocks return in sounds. 

 And startled echo of the voice rebounds. (11) 



Right here, to take the eleventh note first, is some- 

 thing of first-class scientific interest. There is an 

 unsettled question whether or not bees have the 

 sense of hearing. If, as Virgil asserts, they do not 

 thrive when placed in the focus of an echo, that fact 

 looks like tolerable evidence that they can hear. It 

 is not verylikely that the thing is a mere whim: very 

 possibly it may turn out a fact. Who that has a 

 rocky concave with a strong echo will investigate 

 and report? Some of the children will be surprised 

 to hear that bees are accused of being deaf. Sir 

 John Lubbock played a fiddle within an inch or two 

 of them, and they wouldn't waltz, wouldn't even 

 beat time: didn't even care enough about it to try 

 the key of one sliari) on him to make him dance. 



(1) Now, dear Novice, don't get huffy; this plan of 

 watering is ever so much better than yours in A B C. 

 I've tried that till I've got sick of it, and quit. More 

 than thi-ee-quarters of the bees will go to a place of 

 their own choice, and get water that is freshly fil- 

 tered through cool mud. The few that did come 

 around my jar were mostly after salt, I reckon. 

 Warm water on a wooden board in the sun is a 

 breeding-place for microscopic vegetation, and " lee- 

 lle, teenty animiles" to give the bee-babie worms, 



I believe. The willows would impart some of their 

 own quality to the water, if the bees chose to take 

 water from the middle of the bunch. "Virgil's plan, 

 as I understand it, is to put in two big stones, out 

 where the water is nearly a foot deep, and then a big 

 bundle of willows between the stones and the shore, 

 fastening the ends with stones so they can not float 

 away. 



(2) This sounds just like a kind and wise man who 

 does not want the poor bees to be drownrd, as they 

 very often are when their drinking-places are not 

 improved. 



(3) Lots of honey-people have tried a few honey- 

 plants— and complained of naughty bees that would 

 not notice the new posies at all. This is olten be- 

 cause there are so few flowers of a kind; and possi- 

 bly sometimes because the bees don't tind 'em. Vir- 

 gil's hint is, put your honey-patch right where the 

 bees go to drink, and then the>'ll surely find it. And 

 the plants themselves will not fail to secrete honey 

 for lack of moisture. 



(4) Cork is the very best material for the wall of 

 a bee-hive, it is so dry and warm. In all the centu- 

 ries since Virgil wrote, no one has contrived any 

 thing better. 



(5) Willows, of course, formed the cheap hive of the 

 day. It strikes me that willow skeps must be better 

 than the straw ones thej' use in Ireland and Englflnd. 



(6) That, dear Virgil, is about the way I used to 

 talk. But grim Death and old Boreas area pretty 

 strong span of lawyers, when they both get to argu- 

 ing on one side of a case; and they argued with me 

 till I gave up the narrow door for wintering my 

 bees. Go, talk to Mr. Root; may be he has been ven- 

 tilating some of his weak swarms to death this very 

 winter. 



(7) From the flowers, eh? We all put it down, that 

 propolis is gathered from leaf-buds; hut, come to 

 think of it. 1 dare say the bees get most of their sup- 

 ply from flowers and flower-buds. Some flowers, 

 sunflowers, for instance, have so much resin that 

 your hands will be dreadfully sticky after handling 

 one. 



(8) O Virgil! how could you be so unkind as to 

 spoil all my chance of getting a patent on my hole- 

 in-the-ground colonies? Haven't told Gleanings 

 anything about them, have I? I got scared out — 

 afraid the editor would make a wry face, and head it 

 off, '* Another one of friend Hasty's fancies." 



(9) The man who can give a better method than 

 this, for wintering a skep hive out of door?, had bet- 

 ter hold up his hand, else Virgil "takes the cake." 

 Plaster the old thing with lime mortar (early enough 

 to have it get thoroughly dry, of course) then bury 

 it in leaves, and shed off the rain with a substantial 

 board cover. 



(10) This is quite curious. There is no handy way 

 to kill lobsters; so they are often put on to cook 

 while yet alive. Evidently the Roman peasants had 

 a superstitioj] that the bees would resent such cru- 

 elties, and refus*^ to prosper where such deeds were 

 done. Not the worst superstition in the world, was 

 it? By putting these two cautions so closely togeth- 

 er, Virgil indicates his own belief that it was the 

 contiguity of the coast marshes, and not the suffer- 

 ings of the poor lobsters, that made bees unprosper- 

 ous. Of course, the people remote from the shore 

 wouldn't have live lobsters to roast. 



Richards, O., Feb., 1883. E. E. Hasty. 



Well done, friend Hasty. I think we may 

 all feel happy in having such an able trans- 



