170 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
had always been an eyesore to me, I immediately 
dropped into a four foot ditch, making a covered 
eulvert of the stone. There was fall enough to 
take all the water clean from the bottom of the 
ditch, and carry it off at the lower side of the ad¬ 
joining lot. I cut four ditches at right angles to 
the ditch by the road side, and put in tile at the 
bottom. The depth, to which they were laid, va¬ 
ried from three to four feet, as the surface was 
not exactly even. I had no sooner cut the main 
drain than the horse-pond all run away, leaving 
the bottom at least two feet above the waterline 
in the adjoining drain. The change in the looks 
of the land this Spring is astonishing even to my¬ 
self. Here, where cattle have always mired as 
they went out to crop the first grass of May, there 
is now a firm foothold. I have already plowed the 
most of it and have put in a crop of early pota¬ 
toes. The drains are just thirty feet apart, and 
the tile at the lower end constantly discharge 
water, and will probably continue to do so, until 
mid-Summer. 
But my astonishment was nothing compared to 
Jake Frink’s, when he came along and saw his 
horse-pond entirely evaporated. 
“My goodness, Squire Bunker, what does this 
mean ! What am I going to do for a place to 
water my cattle in'!” 
“ Hold, neighbor Frink. Did you sell me this 
piece of land 1” 
“ I did.” 
“ Did I promise you that I would not improve 
afraid of “ book farming but being inveigled 
into taking the Agriculturist, he has, under our 
tuition, become not only an apt scholar, practic¬ 
ing what he learns, but he is now quite a mission¬ 
ary in his own neighborhood, shedding abundant 
light and truth, by his example at least. Good 
speed to Squire B., and to many others like him, 
all over the country.— Ed. 
it ?” 
“ No you did not, but who’d have thought, that 
you was going to knock a hole in the bottom of my 
horse-pond in this style!” 
“ Water will run down hill, neighbor Frink, and 
I can’t help it. The same law, that enables me 
to drain this swamp, will bring water from the hill¬ 
side right into your yard and house. You then 
can save all your manure just as I do, and your 
cattle will not have the trouble of going after wa¬ 
ter in the cold of Winter, and you will not have 
the trouble of scouring all Hookertown, to look 
them up. Your cattle will no longer be a nui¬ 
sance, and you will save yourself a world of fret¬ 
ting and scolding. I have really done you a kind¬ 
ness in drying up this pond hole. But as you may 
not look upon it in that light, I will give you the 
muck that lies in the bottom, at least a hundred 
cords of the wash of the roads, and the droppings 
of your cattle for the last twenty years. It is bet¬ 
ter manure, to day, than a great deal that you cart 
out of your yard.” 
Mr. Frink, took my remarks in dudgeon at the 
lime, and hardly spoke to me for a month. But 
Ihis Spring the lead pipe was laid, and he has now 
as good a watering trough, fed with living water, 
as any of his neighbors. The muck, too, is not 
despised, for as I write, I see Jake's cart, well 
loaded, going up to the yard where muck has hith¬ 
erto been a great stranger. In short, I have strong 
hopes of making something out of Jake yet, though 
he cheated me out of the Premium. But what¬ 
ever may be true of his reform, the horse-pond is 
thoroughly cured, and if you will come up here on 
the glorious Fourth, to help us celebrate, I will 
show you as handsome a piece of potatoes as ever 
grew out of doors. 
Yours to Command, 
Timothy Bunker, Esq. 
Hookertown, May 15, 1858. 
Well done for Squire Bunker. There is no need 
for further evidence that the Agriculturist is doing 
a good work Just turn back and read Mr. Bunk¬ 
er’s letters two years ago, and see what improve¬ 
ment he has made. Who would have thought it! 
Then he was a cautious, conservative farmer 
SWARMING. 
One of the most curious things we have to tell 
about the bee, is the process by which families 
or stocks of bees are multiplied. It would be a 
problem difficult of solution for one ignorant of 
the mode. Here is a family consisting of one 
mother, and her offspring ; the former living se¬ 
veral years, while the common bees are short¬ 
lived. She cannot bear the presence of rivals in 
her hive; her own departure would occasion 
great commotion; she is utterly unable to go out 
alone and lay the foundation of a new colony ; 
and ten thousand bees without her would not be 
able to produce any brood or keep their number 
good. And against any scheme of colonizing is 
the strong instinct that brings the foraging bees 
directly back to the old hive, and the persistence 
with which they cling to their stores of honey 
and their brood comb. 
But God has given them other instincts which 
come into operation at the right moment, and 
make a certain number perfectly willing to aban¬ 
don their home and fellow-workers, never more 
to return. Early in the Summer, perhaps about the 
time some of our readers receive this number of 
the Agriculturist , the hives begin to be uncomfort¬ 
ably full of inmates, and preparations are made for 
swarming. Royal cells are constructed like those 
described on page 41 of this volume, and the oc¬ 
cupants are nicely cared for. This is for the bene¬ 
fit of those to be left in tbe hive, for the mother- 
bee is herself going to emigrate with a large num¬ 
ber of workers and drones. Perhaps scouts are 
sent out before hand to see if quarters can be se¬ 
cured in the neighborhood for a term of years ; 
such at least is the opinion of eminent naturalists. 
At length, on a pleasant day, and usually not far 
from mid-day, the occupants of the hive are all 
found to be in great commotion ; some of them 
are filling their bags with honey, and others are 
loitering around, like people in the streets of a 
* We present above an original fancy sketch of a rustic 
hive, and the departing swarm, suggested by something 
we have somewhere seen. The hive is a section of a 
hollow tree which the bees had chosen as their home, 
sawn off into the length here represented. 
city when a regiment of soldiers is expected to 
come along. By and and bye with a great rusn 
and whirl they pour out of the hive, as if the 
house was on fire, and fly off in a cloud, and set¬ 
tling down in a cluster on the branch of an apple 
tree, they speedily come to order and consult 
as to the next step. After remaining there an 
hour or two, if not taken care of, they will per¬ 
haps start off in a bee-line for their new home, 
which may he miles distant. While clustered on 
the tree, they may be handled without injury, as 
their abundant supply of food makes them docile, 
and if then provided with a home they may ac¬ 
cept the offer of hospitality and forego their own 
plans. Sometimes, instead of pausing at all, or 
hovering around in circles, they dart away at 
once in the direction of their new home. Some¬ 
times also in an apiary they are glad to take pos¬ 
session of an empty hive, if one stands ready for 
them, and if it is well stored with comb, it is all 
the better, and more attractive. In some places, 
the attempt has been made to arrest the flight of 
swarms by the ringing of bells, the beating of tin 
kettles, and similar noises ; but this probably has 
no effect upon them, and the custom may have 
arisen at first in villages where the discovery of 
a swarm in motion was announced by bells, that 
the owners might look to it and be able to identify 
their own bees. 
The swarm of bees going out in this way is able 
to maintain itself. The workers are provided 
with food for several days, and can at once begin 
the manufacture of comb; and as soon as the 
new cells are made, the mother-bee is ready to 
lay eggs in them, and prepare for an increase of 
the population. On the other hand, those that 
are left behind, have abundant store of honey and 
of comb; the brood in the cells are maturing 
every day, and from the royal cells, they may be 
sure of at least one queen, to take the place of 
the one that left. Should two of these come to 
maturity, however, there must either be a duel 
between them, or one of them must go off with 
a second swarm, giving way to her rival, and still 
further reducing the strength of the stock. 
It is supposed that those who have gone from 
the hive in this natural fever, lose entirely the in¬ 
stinct which had before impelled them to return 
to the old home, and readily adapt themselves to 
their new hive, whether it is placed two feet or 
two miles from the old stand. 
We leave the subject for the present, with this 
perhaps the greatest of wonders. It is to the bees as 
if Queen Victoria, with a portion of her subjects and 
as much treasure as could be caught up hastily in 
their hands, should some day leave their homes, 
their gardens, their palaces, their all, and take 
ship for Australia, to found there a new kingdom, 
entirely separate from the old. But in these in¬ 
stincts and in all the wonders of the hive, the 
hand of God is seen. We admire these things 
most, as exhibitions of His workmanship, and 
providence and wisdom. His hand is seen in the 
structure of the bee ; His controling power in the 
impulses by which it is led to act. The cunning 
work in wax, the economy in the use of material, 
the treasuring up of stores for Winter’s use and 
for human comfort, the provision for an increase 
of numbers, the harmony and industry of the 
workers, and all the curious things which have 
been observed for centuries, turn our minds from 
Nature to Nature’s God. He only is from age to 
age ; but all His works praise Him, and blessed 
be His glorious name forever and ever. 
All these things are made for man. Dominion 
is given to our race over every beast of the field, 
and everything that creeps and flies. And for 
what end is man made in the image of God! and 
why has he received authority and power? Is i. 
