98 



THE BEE-KEEPERS' REVIEW. 



tent. When rob is the word they raise per- 

 petual Ned with a colony that has been dis- 

 turbed for so long after the tent is taken off 

 that one feels that hives should be kept shut: 

 and he usually finds a how to keep them so 

 until bees are no longer flying, or honest 

 manners return. And I find the fountain 

 pump an utter humbug, so far as controlling 

 swarms in the air is concerned. My swarms 

 will pass on both sides of you and over your 

 head, do your prettiest. 



And what is the most comfortable comfort 

 I have, do I hear somebody asking ? It is 

 those little pits in the ground ( usually have 

 a dozen or more of them ) into which swarms 

 of bees on their baskets can be chucked and 

 covered with a few shovel-fulls of earth until 

 matters cool down a little. The main use of 

 these pits is to retain second swarms until 

 they can be returned to the hive with toler- 

 able certainty of remaining. I usually hold 

 them in durance two days. Another impor- 

 tant use is to solve those awful messes of 

 half a dozen swarms combined in one, which 

 sometimes swarm. Scoop seven or eight 

 pounds of bees in a basket, and pit them 

 before they ha^e time to get out. Keep on 

 doing the same until you have them all. At 

 eventide, or in the cool of next morning they 

 can be hived with deliberation if not with 

 comfort on frames of young brood. 



Richards, Ohio. 



May 9, 1890. 



A Seat for Bee Keepers ; Robber Cloths ; 



Singeing the Hair on the Hands ; One 



Solid, "Boiled Down" Comfort; 



Hats, Veils, and Rubber Cords. 



DE. C. C. MILLEK. 



nsk NE of my greatest comforts in the 

 apiary is a seat. I've never had a seat 

 to suit me, and perhaps never will. 

 The nearest that comes to it is a liox 

 17x12x9 inches. This gives me a chance to 

 have a seat of any one of these three heights. 

 Very likely you might want a box of differ- 

 ent dimensions, for all do not like a seat of 

 the same height. My assistant wants a seat 

 much lower than mine. It should be made 

 strong enough to never rack, and have hand 

 holes in the middle of at least three differ- 

 ent sides to carry it by. It is not hard to get 

 up such a l)Ox of the requisite dimensions 

 and strength, but it is heavier than I like. I 

 have sometimes thought of getting up a seat 

 in this way : Take twelve sticks of stuff 1^, 

 inches square so as to make a skeleton of a 

 box 17x12x9, or whatever dimensions, then 

 with wire fasten together the corners the 

 farthest apart, thus fastening in four direc- 

 tions. Then nail on tliree sides the lightest 

 l)oards that will sustain your weight. 



If you have never tried one, you hardly 

 know what a comfort it is to have one or 

 more robber-cloths to use at a time when 

 you must work, but when robbers are so bad 

 that you can't work. I'll tell you how to 

 make one : Take a piece of ct)nimon cotton 

 cloth or sheeting twelve or fifteen inches 

 longer and wider than your hive, and four 



pieces of lath about as long as your hive. 

 Lay the edge of the cloth that is twelve or 

 fifteen inches longer than the hive on one of 

 the lath, so that the cloth shall project alike 

 at each end, and lay another lath directly 

 over it. Drive l^j or V4 inch wire nails 

 through both lath at intervals of perhaps 

 three inches, and clinch. Serve the opposite 

 edge in the same way and your robber-cloth 

 is complete. Suppose you want to take 

 frames from one hive and put in another. 

 After you have taken out the frame, grasp 

 the robber-cloth by the lath at one side, and 

 by a single fling with one hand throw it over 

 the hive. Your hive is instantly covered 

 bee tight, with no possibility that it is not 

 properly adjusted at some point, and the 

 hive in which you are putting the frames 

 having been covered with a roliber-cloth, is 

 quickly and easily uncovered and covered in 

 the same way. Sometimes I have wanted to 

 take out the frames of a hive to get a queen 

 or for some other purpose, when I did not 

 want robbers to have a chance to trouble 

 much. By using two robber-cloths, one on 

 each side, I could have the top of the hive 

 covered, all but just the space where I was 

 working. 



I don't know how much advantage there is 

 in having the hairs singed oft' the hands, but 

 you are laboring under a popular delusion, 

 friend H., in thinking that singeii'g off the 

 hairs will make them grow in heavier. If 

 you shave your foj-ehead all your life you'll 

 never get a beard there. I have a rather 

 heavy beard, and, as you know, heavy whis- 

 kers, shaving only the ujiper lip and the up- 

 per part of my clieeks. Where the whiskers 

 grow, it has been almost never shaved, and 

 there it is heavy, while the upper part of the 

 cheek, which has been shaved thirty-five 

 years, is covered by a very light beard, 

 which has not increased in weight any more 

 than the hair on my arms. 



I don't agree with you in one thing. If I 

 am working at bees in such a way that they 

 get on the ground and crawl up my legs, the 

 suspense of waiting to know just where they 

 are going to drill holes in my shins is such 

 torture that, visitors or no visitors, I put my 

 pants inside my stockings. 



Now, if you want to know one thing that's 

 solid, boiled down comfort, I'll tell you. 

 On a hot, broiling day, I come in wringing 

 wet with perspiration, a little before dinner ; 

 strip off to the skin and sponge myself oft' 

 with cold water, then rub or brush myself 

 into a glow, put on dry shirt and pants and 

 hang the wet ones out in the sun to dry for 

 the next morning. It's comfort and it's 

 health. 



I like a five-cent hat with the veil sewed 

 on the rim. It takes up too much of the 

 length of the veil to have a puckering string 

 on the hat. I want the puckering string 

 (rubber cord) on the lower end, and then I 

 never tuck it in anywhere — the rubber cord 

 holds it close enoutrh. Keep a baking pow- 

 der tin can in the fuel box, tilled with parlor 

 matches. 



You're right, friend H., these little things 

 are big things, and I expect to learn more 

 than usual from the next Review. 



Makengo, 111., May 22, 1890. 



