26 
BEES AND BEE-KEEPING. 
the before-mentioned ‘‘awful example’’ at the Rotting- 
dean apiary. This fearfully vicious stock covered 
twenty standard frames, in two storeys. The afternoon 
of the 3rd September was cloudy and misty, with strong 
wind and high temperature. The bees were flying, 
but gathering was all but over — the conditions just 
those to breed ill-temper : plenty of work, but terribly 
small wages. Mr. Simmins and myself put four drops 
each of methyl salicylate into our palms, and then, 
“washing our hands with invisible soap, in imper- 
ceptible water,’’ we proceeded to open the hive. The 
bees came at us like pellets from a pop-gun, but no 
stings followed ; and, strangely, they constantly ran 
over our fingers, not exhibiting any dislike to the 
somewhat aromatic body coating them. We darted our 
hands over the disquieted insects, and I stretched out 
my fingers upon the top of the frames, some of 
which were now lifted out and examined, but they 
only struck us in their headlong fury. We then 
kicked the hive, making the bees boil up, apparently 
resolved to do or die, perhaps both. But Mr. Simmins 
escaped unscathed, while I received one sting in the 
knuckle. Oh ! that I had been greased all over, for 
several got up my sleeves and took savage satisfaction. 
The insufficiency of mere defensive measures now be- 
came evident. We had opened the hive, but to close 
it was impossible, since its upper part was hidden 
from view by our “ enemies.” A thin hive quilt was 
placed quietly over them, and the top stood on corner- 
ways, but some hours after numbers were outside 
waiting for us. The one sting in the knuckle notwith- 
standing, the experiment was conclusive that methyl 
