354 



JUVENILE GLEANINGS. 



June 



THE REASON WHY ALL THE LITTLE LETTERS DIDN'T 

 GET PRINTED, ETC. 



You will find (he word "butter" in Isaiah 7:15,23. 

 I wrote you a letter in Dec. last; you never printed 

 it, nor sent me a book. If you do not this time, I 

 will not call you "uncle." Father has 30 stocks of 

 bees— 17 in Root chaff hives, the rest in Simplicities, 

 packed in sawdust, on summer stands. They had a 

 tiy, March 3, and were all alive then. 



Wm. J. PuRDY, age 7. 



Westover, Ont., Can., Mar. 13, 1883. 



I am Sony, William ; but we had so many 

 letters then that I couldn't tind room for 

 them all. Don't you see we are getting 

 back to them now? Your letter above is 

 away back in March. You see, when it is 

 cold weather, and the children are kept in- 

 doors, they write a great many more letters 

 than they do at this time of the year, and so 

 we shall have to go back and take up the old 

 ones. Can't I be "uncle" stilly We surely 

 did send you a book, William, and, as you 

 say you didn't get it, we send one again. 



CLARA'S DESCRIPTION OF THE WAY HER MOTHER 

 CURES THE HEN CHOLERA. 



I read in Juvenile, of some one inquiring about 

 curing chicken cholera. Boil thick milk, and stir in 

 wheat bran while boiling hot; feed them while warm; 

 feed this every day until well, and then twice a 

 week through the season. Ma has had good luck 

 with this for 8 years. I have 3 brothers and 3 sisters 

 and one little niece. She has blue eyes. Ma and I 

 stop the bees when they start off, by going ahead of 

 them, and throwing water up. Pa has 30 colonies of 

 bees; they are doing well. Clara Pheister. 



Etna Green, Ind., April 6, 1883. 



Well, Clara, there is one thing about your 

 remedy I like very much, and that is, it is 

 something that wouldn't hurt a hen, if she 

 wasn't sick at all. In fact, I am inclined to 

 think boiled milk and bread would cure a 

 great many diseases of human beings as well 

 as fowls, if they took it in place of doctors' 

 stuff. 



LULU'S BEE-STORY, AND SOMETHING ABOUT DUCKS 

 ALSO. 



In the spring of 18S1 my father found a swarm of 

 bees, and where do you think he found them? 

 About six miles from here, between the siding and 

 plastering, up close to the eaves of a house. He cut 

 a hole in the plaster, took them out, put them in a 

 box, and brought them home; they had only four by 

 sixteen inches, but of course their hive was quite 

 long enough. They had built comb down about two 

 feet. They were very black. We now have three 

 new swarms from them, all nice Italians. The fun- 

 ny part of the story is, they had wintered there when 

 two-thirds of the bees about here died. Pa says 

 there have been bees in the railroad water-tank in 

 Adams, the last three years. He keeps ducks to 

 help the bees kill moths. He thinks most of them, 

 next to the bees, of any thing we have on the farm. 

 They watch as a cat watches for a mouse, around 

 the hive, and catch the millers. The bees never 

 sting them, as they do the chickens and turkeys. 

 We have the prettiest duck. He is as white as 

 snow, and has a big top-knot. We call it his cap. 

 His name is " Ole." Lulu A. Bisbee. 



Lyle, Minn. 



A COLONY OF BEES UNDER THE HIVE. 



My grandpa keeps bees, and has for over 40 years, 

 or ever since he lived in Illinois. Last fall he and a 

 friend were out looking at them, and, happening to 

 look under a hive, what do you think they saw"? A 



swarm of bees had gone underneath the hive (he 

 uses the L. hive) some time during the summer, and 

 had several combs built from the bottom to the 

 ground, containing supplies, ground cleaned off and 

 coated with propolis. It was late in October before 

 they were discovered. My pa went in November, 

 took them out, put them in an L. hive, and brought 

 them home, and they wintered nicely. My pa takes 

 all the bees that folks in our neighborhood are going 

 to kill with brimstone. He says he can't bear the 

 idea of having the poor little fellows killed. lie 

 feeds them on frames of honey, and usually winters 

 them as well as any of his bees. He now has 31 colo- 

 nies; lost 36 in wintering. Pearl Graves, age 11. 

 Duncan, 111. 



So they undertook to coat the ground with 

 propolis, did they, PearlV I should have 

 thought they would have fared badly when 

 it rained. 1 commend the spirit of your pa 

 ill saving the poor little bees, and I am glad 

 to hear that he usually winters them, as a 

 recompense for his kindness in keeping 

 them from starvation. 



BOTTOM ventilation, ETC. 



In the fall of 1880 pa packed 31 swarms in timothy 

 chaff, with bottom-boards in, and had one swarm 

 alive in the spring. He bought 4 swarms; increased 

 to 16, and took 800 lbs. of extracted honey. In the 

 fall of 1881 he packed in the same box, in oat chaff, 

 with bottom-boards out. All came out strong in the 

 spring. Pa says he thinks putting bees away to 

 winter, with bottom-board in, kills more than any 

 other thing. He put one swarm in the cellar where 

 there was water within a few inches of the hive all 

 winter, bottom-board off, just to try them, and they 

 came out in the spring as bright as a new dollar. 

 Last spring we bought 4 s.varms; increased to 63; 

 took 1300 lbs. of extracted honey, and in the fall 

 packed IS swarms in chaff boxes, and built outdoor 

 cellar for the remainder. They are nearly all buried 

 under the snowdrift. 1 think I shall be a "bee-wo- 

 man" when I get big, for I like to work among bees. 

 I often help pa when he is hiving, or extracting hon- 

 ey, and they hardly ever sling me; but if they do, it 

 doesn't hurt more than a second or so. 



Marie L. Bisbee, age 13. 



Lyle, Minn., Feb. 34, 1883. 



Thanks for your valuable report, Marie. 1 

 see your letter came away back in February, 

 and now we should be glad to know if your 

 father found that leaving the bottom- 

 boards off last winter was successful again. 

 There is something a little mysterious about 

 this matter of ventilation. While, a great 

 many times, results seem to show directly 

 that plenty of air saved them, at other times 

 it seems equally plain that so much ventila- 

 tion killed them. 



A motherless little friend. 



I go to school. My ma is dead. She died the first 

 of March. My pa has sent for a bee-hive, but has 

 not got it yet. I like honey very well. My aunt has 

 got a postoflice. I live with my grandpa. I go to 

 Sabbath-school when it is not too cold. If my letter 

 is worth a book, I want Ten Nights in a Bar-Room. 



Linn, la., March 10, 1883. 



May God comfort you, my poor little chick. 

 No wonder you forgot to sign your name, 

 and no wonder that so many of these little 

 ones in their loneliness write the sad words, 



