A TWENTIETH CENTURY BEE-FARMER 33 
home. Then the poison is injected. Now watch 
what she does afterwards. See! she has finished 
her work, and is turning round and round! The 
barbs are arranged spirally on the sting, and she 
is twisting it out corkscrew-fashion. Now she is 
free again! there she goes, you see, weapon and 
all; and ready to sting again if necessary.” 
The crocus-filling operation was over now, and 
the bee-master took up his barrow and led the way 
to a row of hives in the sunniest part of the 
garden. He pulled up before the first of the hives, 
and lighted his smoking apparatus. 
“* These,’’ he said, as he fell to work, ‘‘ have not 
been opened since October, and it is high time we 
saw how things are going with them.” 
He drove a few strong puffs of smoke into the 
entrance of the hive and removed the lid. Three 
or four thicknesses of warm woollen quilting lay 
beneath. Under these a square of linen covered 
the tops of the frames, to which it had been firmly 
propolised by the bees. My friend began to peel 
this carefully off, beginning at one corner and 
using the smoker freely as the linen ripped 
away. 
‘‘ This was a full-weight hive in the autumn,’’ he 
said, ‘‘so there was no need for candy-feeding. 
But they must be pretty near the end of their stores 
now. You see how they are all together on the 
three or four frames in the centre of the hive? 
The other combs are quite empty and deserted. 
And look how near they are clustering to the top 
of the bars! Bees always feed upwards, and that 
means we must begin spring-feeding right away.” 
He turned to the barrow, on which was a large 
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