1862 



NEW ENGLAND FARMER. 



335 



THE HONEY-BEE'S SONG. 



WHAT THE BEE SINGS TO THE CHILDEEN. 



I am a honey-bee, 



Buzzing away 

 Over the blossoms 



The long summer day ; 

 Now in the lily's cup 



Drinking my fill, 

 Now where the roses bloom 



Under the hill. 

 Gayly we fly, 

 My fellows and I, 

 Seeking the honey our hives to supply. 



Up in the morning — 



No laggards are we — 

 Skimming the clover-tops 



Ripe for the bee, 

 Waking the flowers 



At dawning of day, 

 Ere the bright sun 



Kiss the dew-drops away. 

 Merrily singing, 

 Busily winging 

 Back to the hive with the store we are bringing. 



No idle moments 



Have we through the day, 

 No time to squander 



In sleep or in play ; 

 Summer is flying. 



And we must be sure 

 Food for the winter 



At once to secure. 

 Bees in a hive 

 Are up and alive — 

 Lazy folks never can prosper or thrive. 



Awake, little mortals. 



No harvest for those 

 Who waste their best hours 



In slothful repose ; 

 Come out — to the morning 



All bright things belong— 

 And listen awhile 



To the honey-bee's song. 

 Merrily singing, 

 Busily winging, 

 Industry ever its own reward bringing. 



pleasant odor of the cedai* is sufficiently disagree- 

 able to the moth to keep hira away from articles 

 of clothing deposited there ! Tliis is a mistake. 

 The strongest instinct prompts the miller to seek 

 the means of perpetuating its kind, and no trifling 

 impediment will prevent it. 



But the preservation of furs, or articles of cloth- 

 ing, is perfectly simple, cheap and easy. Shake 

 them well, and tie them up in a cotton or linen 

 bag, so that the miller cannot possibly enter, and 

 the articles loill not be injured, though the bag is 

 hung in a woodhouse or garret. 



This is cheaper than to build cedar closets, and 

 better than to fill the bedclothes and garments 

 with the sickening odor of camphor, tobacco, or 

 any other drug. 



Moths. — A correspondent of the London Field 

 recommends tallow candles, (common,) done up 

 in paper, and put in the sack or drawer with 

 cloths, to prevent moths destroying the cloth. 



Remarks. — Nonsense. The moth-miller cares 

 no more for a tallow candle than for the fifth 

 wheel of a coach. jNIost of our insects are very 

 hardy, caring little for wind or weather, and will 

 never "die of aromatic pain." We once packed 

 some small skins in the centre of a cask of tobac- 

 co leaf and stems, but the miller went there, de- 

 posited her eggs, and the furs were ruined. This 

 shows that they are not at all delicate, and care 

 nothing for tobacco, camphor, or even tallow can- 

 dles. Quite likely, some person had a tiglit clos- 

 et where there happened to be a tallow candle, 

 and the safety of the furs was imputed to some ef- 

 ficacy in the candle, rather than to the tightness 

 of the closet. Expensive cedar closets are fre- 

 quently constructed, with the idea that the rather 



TAN-BAKK AS A MANURE. 



^Messrs. Editors : — I have observed various 

 statements as to the nature and value of spent 

 tan-bark applied to crops or tillage land. Having 

 made some experiments in a small way, bearing 

 on the question, I will give the results. 



On the 1st of July I sowed broadcast, on good 

 alluvial soil, well-pulverized carrots, ruta-bagas 

 and cabbage. I covered them with three-fourths 

 of an inch of tan bark, quite fresh from the tan- 

 nery. The growth was good, and crop as large as 

 the season would allow. 



I also planted potatoes in the same way, cover- 

 ing with four to six inches of fresh tan bark. 

 They had no other care, the weeds not grooving. 

 The crop was fair under the circumstances — indi- 

 cating no bad eflect from the tannic acid of the 

 covering. 



I also raised good corn where tan was mixed 

 with the soil in the proportion of one to four. 



From these facts I have not hesitated to use it 

 freely as an absorbent in my stables. My cows 

 are bedded with it to a depth of three or four 

 inches. It is hoed back into the drop as fast as it 

 becomes wet. It then becomes thoroughly mixed 

 with the manure, making about double the bulk. 

 It is daily loaded into a cart and hauled to the 

 fields, where it is deposited in heaps. 



The great advantages I get are a more perfect 

 distribution of the manure in spreading — economy 

 in getting all the manurial qualities on to the 

 ground — neatness of stables, and saving all the 

 trouble in plowing, drilling in seeds, and cultivat- 

 ing, when coarse straw manure is used, as it must 

 ue, or one year lost in rotting it. 



Dried muck is undoubtedly the best. But I 

 can't get it ; and it is much more expensive in 

 procuring and hauling, where tan is within reach, 



My land is alluvial, a little inclined to be heavy, 

 and I anticipate good results from the light, open 

 nature of the tan. 



I procure my supply (about 150 loads) in dry 

 weather, and place in the bottom of a bay, conve- 

 nient for use. Frost only crusts over the toj), giv- 

 ing no trouble. — Country Gentleman. 



The reasoning power is the corner-stone of the 

 intellectual building, giving grace and strength to 

 the whole structure. 



