Tmm mimmmivmm mmm jou/mkmx. 



25 



(•oinplL'ti'd I sold ;it abcint luilf (lie 

 price of sealed honey, and the rest was 

 uiven to the bees for com))leti()n the 

 next season, and of whieli the bees 

 made a bad job, as some of it was 

 granulated, and some was sour, though 

 they fixed it all up as well as thej- 

 eould, and finished them ; but it was 

 horrible looking honey, the sides of the 

 comb was very uneven, besides being 

 of difterent eolors. I was almost 

 ashamed to*ofter it for sale. 



llDliig; Partly-Filled Sectlous. 



After experimenting two or three 

 seasons more, I discovered the right 

 way, though I think I had lost consid- 

 erable before, by trjing to make the 

 bees finish nearly all the sections the 

 same season, by changing them around 

 among the hives. This was not onlj- 

 lost time for me, but also for the bees, 

 or rather, less hone}' for me. I now 

 allow my bees to go above toward the 

 close of the honey season, and let them 

 have their own way about finishing 

 the sections j but as soon as the honey 

 season is over, I extract every unfin- 

 ished section that I have, and let the 

 bees clean them out, when they are 

 ready for the next season. By this 

 method I secured just as fine honey as 

 I do with foundation starters, and a 

 great deal more of it ; and the cases 

 with the empty combs are nicely put 

 away, where no mice or dust can get 

 at them. 



I am glad that there are more bee- 

 keepers who can secure nice honey 

 with these combs, as was shown at the 

 late convention in Chicago ; that Mr. 

 Hutchinson had the nicest lot of honey 

 in Chicago ; and that he, as we under- 

 stand, uses the empty combs. 



When I was ready to sell my honey, 

 I have never been a.sked, " Are your 

 crates and sections clean ?" or, "Are 

 the combs from last j-ear ?" etc. No, 

 not any of these questions have ever 

 been asked, but invariabl}-, •• Is your 

 honey white ?" and on this white the 

 whole question turns, in selling and 

 buying. 



' If I have my dark honey in ever so 

 nice combs, crates and sections, it is 

 slow sale, and at a far lower price 

 than white honey ; even if the latter is 

 less attractivelj- put up. Of course it 

 is best to have the honey in the best 

 marketable shape, and everything else 

 clean, and in its proper place. 



Report for 1887. 



I commenced with 145 colonies, in- 

 creasing them to 217, by natural swarm- 

 ing. I obtained 7,000"pounds of comb 

 honey, and 1,000 pounds of extracted 

 honey. The whole crop realized for 

 me about |1,300. 1 also sold bees 

 enough to pay nearly all the expenses 

 of the apiarj-. 



Theilnianton.ck Minn. 



BEE CELLAR. 



The Proper Temperature and 

 Ventilation of a Bee.Ccliar. 



Written for the American Bee Journal 

 BY A. C. TYRREL. 



So much has been written on this 

 subject, that the heading of this article 

 may prevent an impartial perusal 

 thereof, bj" those who consider that 

 they long ere this learned all there is 

 to be known about wintering bees 

 successfully in caves or cellars. But I 

 opine that many decades will elapse 

 ere the " A B C class " in apiculture 

 grachiatc. 



What I am about to advocate, I am 

 well aware will not meet with a " sec- 

 ond " from the majority of bee-keepers 

 throughout the country, for my ex- 

 periments (not assumptions or mere 

 theories) will not comport with what 

 the)' term " reason " or common sense, 

 but audi alteram partem (hear the other 

 side), and then condemn, or award the 

 full measure of praise if the proof here- 

 in presented for consideration sustains 

 my assertions. 



In the matter of temperature and 

 ventilation, I have endeavored to 

 thoroughly post myself, for they are 

 the most important factors — all others 

 are of minor importance, as matters 

 over which we have no control, such 

 as honej'-dew, improper food, etc., 

 speculative fancies, formative hypothe- 

 sis, to meet the exigency of exceptional 

 cases. Whenever it has been my good 

 fortune to make a discovery, seemingly 

 outside of the usual order of things, it 

 has been the practice with me to 

 patiently watch and experiment for at 

 least three seasons before acquainting 

 the public with the result of my obser- 

 vation.s — so often do our fondest hopes 

 and brightest dreams prove to be 

 chimerical. And of those composing 

 the great fraternity of bee-keepers, 

 from the Orient to the Occident, hav- 

 ing many a pet theory and hobb)- 

 horse to ride, when asked to give " a 

 reason for the hope that is within 

 them," at once " trot out" Experience, 

 of longer or shorter duration, in ac- 

 cordance with the importance of the 

 case, or amount of pressure brought to 

 bear by adherents of the opposite side 

 of the question. 



For a long time I was of the opinion 

 that my bee-cellar was too warm, but 

 as so many of my fellow-apiarists said 

 41° to 45°, and some have said 52°, 

 Fahr., I endeavored to so regulate the 

 cellar that the temperature would not 

 fall below 45°, but I signally failed to 

 exclude frost ; and it was well for me 

 in a financial point of view, and cer- 

 tainlv better for the bees, that I did 

 fail. " 



During the winter of 1885, and the 

 following winter, the thermometer in 

 my cellar, after the cold weather set 

 in (say about half of the winter), reg- 

 istered 30-, occasionally dropping 

 down to 28 , but, strange (?) to say, 

 the bees, without any exception,, win- 

 tered perfec'tly. 



Last wintcu- the cellar was made 

 much warmer than ever before, the 

 mercury indicating 45° (often higher), 

 but the loss of bees was much greater 

 than the preceding winters. Was this 

 phenomenal, or the legitimate result 

 of cause and effect ? On Nov. 22, 

 1887, my bees were put into the cellar, 

 having previously provided tight out- 

 side and inner doors, and stopping 

 all crevices, besides making ample 

 provisions for ventilation. The weather 

 has been, with one exception, un- 

 usuall)' warm, and in consequence the 

 thermometer in the cellar has regis- 

 tered, nearly every day, 50°, until 

 night before last, when I succeeded 

 (by opening wide all out-.side doors, 

 and raising the curtain used for dark- 

 ening the apartment) in lowering the 

 temperature to 42°, and last night to 

 32°. 



Up to this time the stronger colonies 

 have been very restless, necessitating 

 the use of wire-cloth to confine them 

 to their respective hives. Night and 

 day it was distressing to hear them 

 " roar," so different from the low, gen- 

 tle hum of contentment that there is 

 no mistaking the cause, or sound. 

 Although there were no symptoms of 

 diarrhea, the death-rate was fearful, 

 and would soon have depleted the col- 

 onies had it not been checked. 



When the mercury dropped to 42°, 

 the change inside the hives was appar- 

 ent at once, but when it reached 32° 

 the bees went into the hives and re- 

 mained perfectly quiet and contented. 



Whenever the temperature rises 

 above 42°, Fahr., in my cellar, the 

 bees become restive, and boil out of 

 the hives as if in the act of attacking 

 marauders ; hence I say that from 32° 

 to 38° is the proper temperature for a 

 bee-cellar or cave ; and I do not fear 

 for the safety of iny bees if it drops oc- 

 casionally to 28°. 



If I could regulate the temperature 

 at all times I would not allow it to rise 

 above 40°, for I am satisfied that 

 "heat" is more injurious to bees in 

 "confinement" than cold, provided 

 the cellar is dry and well ventilated. 



How many, if any of the bee-keepers 

 who have written on the subject, have 

 tested the condition of a strong colony 

 as to bodily heat generated ? How do 

 they know that 45° or 50° is " about 

 right ?" that if the temperature falls 

 below those figures, the bees become 

 restless, exercise violently to keep 

 warm, consume more honey than is 



