December 14, 1882. JOURNAL OF HORTICULTURE AND COTTAGE GARDENER. 
557 
Cucumbers .—Severe weather with little sunshine renders sharp 
firing necessary to maintain a suitable temperature, and care is 
needed, as the air is often so dried as to be injurious to the health of 
the plants. Thinning the fruits must be attended to, overcropping 
soon exhausting the plants, removing at once all male blossoms and 
any damaged leaves. Yery little if any stopping will be required 
now, except the growths of vigorous plants. See that the plants do 
not suffer from insufficient supplies of water, but be careful not to 
give too much. Atmospheric moisture must be sparingly given, but 
an ungenial condition of the atmosphere should be avoided by damp¬ 
ing available surfaces occasionally. 
PLANT HOUSES. 
Pelargoniums .—The earliest cut-back, large-flowered, and other 
varieties that were first shaken out and placed in smaller pots will 
now have taken root freely in the fresh soil, and should at once be 
moved into the pots in which they are to flower. Large pots are not 
necessary, as the best specimens can be had with heads of bloom 
in 8-inch pots. The aim should be to have the soil full of roots 
before spring, and then supply them with liquid manure. The soil 
must be rich turfy loam, with a fifth of thoroughly reduced manure 
incorporated, and a little sand, ramming it well into the pots, for if 
potted loosely the plants have a tendency to produce too much 
foliage with few roots and flowers. Place the plants near to the 
glass, keeping them well tied out to form the plant for which they 
are intended. If simply wanted for decoration they only need the 
shoots tied out so as to admit the light amongst them, for if allowed 
to assume a close erect position they become drawn and weakly. 
Calceolarias of the earliest-sown plants should now be removed 
into larger pots ; those 7 or 8 inches in diameter will be large enough 
for general decorative purposes, but if wanted to be grown large 
they should have another shift later on, as it is not advisable to give 
them too much root space at once. The plants cannot have too 
much light, and should be kept cool and moist, frost, however, being 
excluded. Humea elegans also should be shifted into larger pots 
as they require it. They also need to be kept cool and moist and 
free from aphides, these and Calceolarias having the foliage injured 
by too strong a fumigation with tobacco. Cinerarias should be 
regularly supplied with liquid manure, shifting any needing more 
root space before they become very much rootbound. 
If a few plants of Cytisus racemosus be placed in’ a house with a 
temperature of 50° artificially they will soon come into flower and 
be very useful for conservatory decoration. A few more Epacrises 
placed in .a house with a similar temperature will come into flower 
shortly, and succeed those that were similarly treated earlier in the 
autumn. Varieties that have a tendency to bloom early, as these 
not only flower in a lower temperature, but keep fresh much longer 
either on the plant for conservatory decoration or for cutting. The 
varieties of erect habit usually are disposed to flower earlier than 
the branched sorts, of which there are now many fine forms in shades 
of colour from white up to crimson. 
Where greenhouses are kept furnished with flowering plants 
damp will now have to be guarded against by means of gentle fires, 
as the condensed vapour depositing on the blooms will cause the 
petals to be spotted and the buds to decay. Whenever fires are 
resorted to for expelling damp a small chink of air should be left on 
at the same time, in order to allow of the escape of superfluous 
moisture. Primulas should now be carefully watered, especially the 
double varieties, not wetting the crowns, which induces decay. 
HE BEE-KEEPER. 
BEE LORE. 
We have sometimes been much amused, oftentimes sore per¬ 
plexed, by the many and various superstitions concerning bees. 
In all parts of E gland Scotland, Wales, and Ireland certain 
curious myths are religiously believed and held sacred by old- 
fashioned bee-keepers. Many of these are widespread, others 
are local to a few counties and unknown elsewhere. As w r e 
before remarked, some of these superstitions are amusing and 
can be traced their origin ; whereas others perplex one greatly 
to know how they can have arisen. 
The all-prevailing custom among villagers and farm labourers 
of ringing bells, beating pots or kettles, and otherwise making as 
much noise and hubbub as possible when a sw arm issues, was in 
vogue in very early ages. Since we do not believe that the noise 
has any effect whatever in causing the swarm to settle, we can 
only suppose that the institution of the custom was for the pur¬ 
pose of giving notice to neighbouring bee-keepers that the operator 
on the bell, drum, or kettle claimed the rising swarm and iden¬ 
tified it as his own. “ Habit is second nature” says the proverb, 
and the habit in question holds sway over the rural bee-keeping 
world for long centuries after the cause for and establishment 
of that habit has been forgotten. By an old law of the time of 
Alfred the Great a bee-keeper is permitted to follow and to 
secure his swarm if on another’s property ; but he must keep the 
sw T arm in sight, and that his neighbours may know he is following 
it he must ring a bell as he pursues it. The bell-ringing is now 
oftener replaced by yelling and the beating of a kettle or rattling 
of fire-irons, and the bee-keeper is not so much intent on calling 
his neighbours’ attention to the fact that he is following his bees, 
as on charming the swarm and causing it to alight seduced or 
terror-stricken by his rough music. 
The law of Alfred evidently explains the origin of the custom, 
although, as we said above, the habit prevailed centuries before 
that law was made. Virgil refers to the tin-can music in his 
fourth Georgic. Plato, Pliny, Varro, and Columella all speak of 
it, and attribute the settling of the bee3 either to fear or joy ; 
while Aristotle is not certain what the effect is which the beating 
of brazen vessels has on the bees. We believe that a violent 
concussion of the air affects a swarm. A gun fired near a hover¬ 
ing swarm seemed to cause it to pitch suddenly, but we intend 
to make further experiments and make the result known. 
Who has not heard of the bees who would never thrive unless 
the hive were anointed with a concoction of beer and treacle or 
sugar ? Tom Clodpole has some bees in his garden which never 
do well unless the carcase of a dead cat dangles from a pole close 
to their hive. Another sapient skepist always places his manure 
heap as handy as possible to his honey-gatherers. Nothing will 
convince him that it is unnecessary or even prejudicial to so 
combine, as Samson did, the strong and the sweet. Whence 
shall we trace this deeply seated belief ? Are Tom and his 
sapient brother right, and are we wrong? The solution lies in a 
nutshell. Bees require salt, which they obtain from various 
natural sources. The decomposition of the dead cat, the heating 
of the manure heap, are two generators of salt ; and the bees, 
unheeding or disregarding the hideous and the filthy, seek and 
find what they require and carry off the pure salt to their hives. 
Thus the countryman is right so far as his knowledge guides him, 
his manner of application only is wrong. In early spring, before 
honey is distilled in the flowers, we give the bees the requisite 
small quantity of salt with their artificial food. Once let the 
earth bring forth her floral treasures, and the salt will be found 
by our insect friends in sweeter laboratories than the carcase of a 
cat or a manure heap. 
But what shall we say of Mrs. A, who has kept bees nearly all 
her life, and that life a tolerably long one ? We are almost afraid 
to tell of her recipe for dressing a hive to receive a swarm. How¬ 
ever, at the risk of revealing a secret, and perhaps of shocking 
some reader with a very delicate constitution, the secret must come 
out. Many a swarm of bees had she lost before she was told of 
the magic “dressing.” We might perhaps laugh at her when we 
heard what it was ; but although we seemed to know how to get 
bees out of a hive (we had just driven some condemned bees), we 
should never know how to be sure of keeping bees in a hive 
unless she gave us her recipe. Since using it she had never 
lost a swarm. And what was the potent remedy ? We hope 
the printer will put it in very small type. “ A little bit of pig 
dung about the size of a nut ! ” “Just stick it in the middle of 
the crown of the skep, and the swarm won’t never leave it there.” 
So says Mrs. A, and she must know, for she kept bees long before 
many of us new-fashioned bee-keepers played with our rattles. 
How shall we explain this curious perversion of the sense of the 
nectar-scenting bee ? Only by saying it is a proof of the old saw, 
“ There’s no accounting for tastes.” 
There are still living among us the hee-keepers who will never 
sell a swarm, as such an action would certainly bring them bad 
luck, and others who tell all great afflictions to their bees. They 
would expect to lose a beloved sister, father, or mother if the bees 
were not duly informed of brother Tom’s death. We generally 
find that such of our bee-confiding friends are very misty as to 
