Night on a Honey-Farm. 



knife, and with one swift slithering cut removed the whole 

 of the cell-capping's from the surface of the comb. At once 

 the knife was thrown back into its smoking bath, and a 

 second one taken out, with which the other side of the 

 comb was treated. Then the comb was hung in the rack 

 of the trolley, and the keen hot blades went to work on 

 another frame. As each trolley was fully loaded it was 

 whisked off to the extracting-machine and another took 

 its place. 



" All this work," explained the bee-master, as we 

 passed on, ' ' is done after dark, because in the daytime the 

 bees would smell the honey and would besiege us. So we 

 cannot begin extracting until they are all safely hived for 

 the night. ' ' He stopped before a row of bulky cylinders. 

 " These," he said, " are the honey ripeners. Each of 

 them holds about twenty gallons, and all honey is kept here 

 for three or four days to mature before it is ready for 

 market. If we were to send it out at once it would fer- 

 ment and spoil. In the top of each drum there are fine 

 wire strainers, and the honey must run through these, and 

 finally through thick flannel, before it gets into the cylin- 

 der. Then, when it is ripe, it is drawn off and bottled." 



One of the big cylinders was being tapped at the 

 moment. A workman came up with a kind of gardener's 

 water-tank on wheels. The valve of the honey-vat was 

 op>ened, and the rich fluid came gushing out like liquid 

 amber. "This is all white-clover honey," said the bee- 

 master, tasting it critically. " The next vat there ought to 

 be pure sainfoin. Sometimes the honey has a distinct 

 almond flavour; that is when hawthorn is abundant. 

 Honey varies as much as wine. It is good or bad accord- 

 ing to the soil and the season. Where the horse-chestnut 

 is plentiful the honey has generally a rank taste. But 

 this is a sheep-farmers' country, where they grow thou- 

 sands of acres of rape and lucerne and clover for sheep- 

 feed ; and nothing could be better for the bees. ' ' 



By this time the gardener's barrow was full to the brim. 

 We followed it as it was trundled heavily away to another 

 part of the building. Here a little company of women were 

 busy filling the neat glass jars, with their bright screw- 

 covers of tin ; pasting on the label of the big London 

 stores, whither most of the honey was sent ; and packing 



43 



