240 THE APIARY. 



by ; and, lastly, thou must be no stranger to them. In a word 

 (or rather in five words), be chaste, sweet, sober, quiet, familiar j 

 so they will love thee and know thee from all others.' " 



Allusion having been made to the profit that may be 

 gained by the judicious management of bees, we will illus- 

 trate that point by relating an anedote of a certain French 

 cure.* It is one which may be suggestive to some of the 

 rural clergy in this country, who might almost as easily 

 keep an apiary as they do a garden or an orchard. 



A good French bishop, in paying his annual visit to 

 his clergy, was very much afflicted by the representa- 

 tions they made to him of their extreme poverty, which, 

 indeed, the appearance of their houses and families cor- 

 roborated. Deploring the sad state of things which had 

 reduced them to such a condition, he arrived at the house 

 of a curate, who, living amongst a poorer set of parish- 

 ioners than any he had yet visited, would, he feared, be 

 in a still more woful plight than the rest. Contrary, 

 however, to his expectations, he found the appearance of 

 this remote parsonage to be superior to those he had 

 already visited. Everything about the house wore the 



* This story, in a disguised form, or, as the writer would say, 

 an improved form, was quoted in the Cornhtll Magazine some 

 time ago. In transforming the bee-keeping cure into an Eng- 

 lish clergyman, the effect was cleverly enhanced, especially as to 

 the dismay of the decorous English prelate in hearing that his 

 poor brother in the Church had turned " manufacturer ; " but 

 then the •vraisemblance of the story, as we have it, was destroyed. 



