203 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
fit up a fine country place, surround themselves 
with all the appliances of town luxury, and set out 
to continue their town society there, having lit¬ 
tle else to do but enjoy themselves, and their 
friends at will; to circulate, as in days past, 
with town associations, things, and people. Their 
occupation is “ leisure ”■—their living “ elegant,’ 
we concede. But what else ! 
We are not about to condemn, or speak harsh¬ 
ly of such as have adopted a life of elegant leis¬ 
ure in the country, and whose minds and circum¬ 
stances, pecuniary and domestic, are such as to 
permit them to enjoy, or carry it out in full. But 
this latter is hardly a supposable case ; and hav¬ 
ing witnessed several lamentable failures of the 
sort, we know something about it, not in our own 
experience, but in that of others. 
American life of any kind, to be either useful 
to anybody, or satisfactory to the holder, should 
have a definite, positive object in it. We have no 
orders of nobility, sustained by large fortune, and 
perpetuated by primogeniture. We are born on 
an equality, as to political and natural rights; 
and the acquirement of knowledge, or sub¬ 
stance ; and good sense in using them, if we 
may possess them, makes the man, and gives him 
his position in all classes of society with which 
he associates. If a retired man of any profes¬ 
sion or trade, go into the country, let him be 
something there , as he was in the town or city. 
Let him be a farmer, gardener, or pomologist. 
Do as much, or as little as he pleases at it—but 
be something. If he sets up “elegant leisure,” 
he’ll have a hard, and an expensive time of it. He 
will “ keep boarding house ” at an enormous cost, 
and get no pay for it. Let his family be ever so 
happily disposed, he will have any amount of do¬ 
mestic discoi d and difficulty—in the worry of ser¬ 
vants, and the vexation of striving to live in ex¬ 
traordinary style, while every body in his neigh¬ 
borhood is living quietly, and at ease. In short, 
his career will be a brief one, and himself and all 
attached to him glad to get out of it at the first 
possible opportunity. It will cost more than the 
same sort of life in the city itself, because more 
distant from his wants, and necessities; and it 
will wind up with a Flemish account at his bank¬ 
er’s, and many a heart-ache with wife, and daugh¬ 
ters, who will find that they have sweated and 
toiled without end for thankless hundreds who 
have enjoyed their hospitality for nothing, and 
can give no recompense in kind, or otherwise. 
They have enjoyed many friends, it is true; but 
at the same time have given sustenance and favor 
to secret, or open foes. Hospitality and kind¬ 
ness in private life among one’s real friends, 
are apt to be thought no virtues in one who 
sets up a pretentious style of living, out of 
place, and they beget no gratitude in the heart of 
the recipient. 
On the other hand, he who goes into country 
retirement after a career of active toil, merely 
to exist, to pass away the remainder of his days 
in doing nothing, usually makes short work of it, 
and dies early. Having nothing to do, disease 
soon makes his acquaintance, and with death at 
its elbow, they make a rapid finish of him. Long 
years of activity can not be discarded with impu¬ 
nity. “ Better wear out than rust out,” is an old 
proverb. Occupations may be changed, but not 
habits, so far as bodily and mental exercise are 
concerned. A merchant, mechanic, or profession¬ 
al man may turn farmer, gardener, or orchardist, 
with perfect impunity, even to an increase of 
years and the attainment of greater wordly hap¬ 
piness ; but employment, congenial to the mind, 
and the due exercise of the body is indispensa¬ 
ble. 
Moon-Struck Agriculture. 
The following paragraph went the rounds of the 
papers, not long ago, evidently by a lunatic 
writer: “ A rail-fence, built in the ‘ old of the 
moon,’ will sink into the ground eight inches in 
a few’ weeks, while, if built at another time, it 
will not sink at all. Shingles nailed upon a roof 
in ‘ the new of the moon’ will soon throw out the 
nails. Corn planted in the new of the moon will 
beat all other corn, and sheep sheared at that 
time will yield heavier fleeces than those sheared 
at other periods.” 
Why did not this “ book-farmer” add that a 
load of cobble-stones drawn at the new of the 
moon, will make twice as many rods of fence as 
one drawrn in the old of the moon! Or, as a co¬ 
temporary says : “ He might have added that 
wood drawn at the new of the moon will afford 
twice as many cords as if drawn at other times.” 
ENEMIES OF BEES. 
The instinct of bees leads them to repel intru¬ 
ders from their hives without ceremony, whenever 
it is practicable, and the sentyiels at the door¬ 
way are constantly on the watch to investigate 
the claims of each insect that applies for admis¬ 
sion. They are not always successful, however, 
in guarding the hive from its enemies. Some¬ 
times an unwelcome guest may be stung. A slug- 
snail once met this fate, and then the bees, unable 
to remove it from the hive, covered it entirely 
over with propolis. A shell-snail found access to 
Reaumur’s hive, and adhered closely to the glass 
by means of its slime. So the bees formed a bor¬ 
der of propolis around the edge of the shell, and 
thus fastened it immoveably, relieving themselves 
of all further trouble about it, and consigning it 
to an unexpected tomb. 
THE MOTH. 
By far the most troublesome insect that infests 
the bee-hive, is one that has been known since 
the days of Aristotle. It is the bee-moth (Tinea 
Mellonella,) sometimes known as “ the gallery 
moth” from the mode in which its larva con¬ 
structs its web. The moth lies quiet by day, but 
as night approaches may often be found flitting 
about the hives from the middle of April till Sep¬ 
tember, seeking to enter for the sake of laying 
its eggs where the worms immediately upon being 
hatched will have food at hand suited to their 
wants. It is only the female, however, that has 
occasion to enter, and she differs so much from 
the male in size and color, that one would not 
suppose them to be related. She is larger, and of 
a darker hue, and very quick in her motions on the 
wing as well as on foot, A careful search by day 
may bring her to light, quietly reposing under 
some sheltered board in the neighborhood of the 
hive, and resembling so much a sliver of dry 
wood, as easily to be overlooked. 
If once she gets access to the interior of the 
hive she does mischief, not by devouring honey, 
but bv depositing her eggs in great numbers; and 
thus obeying the instincts of nature, she prepares 
a home for her offspring, just such as they need. 
The eggs are insignificant in appearance; we 
show a collection of them of the natural size, and 
also magnified, in fig. 18. 
The mischief is done by the 
worms that are hatched from 
these eggs by the warmth 
of the hive. The little 
worm immediately upon leav¬ 
ing the egg begins to eat, not 
the honey, but the i^ax-comh ; 
and as it grows it weaves 
around itself a long cylindrical web or gallery, in 
which it can move backward and forward with 
great ease, and which the bees are loth to meddle 
with. Its web may be seen in fig. 19. which 
Fig. 19. Web spun by the larva of the Bee Moth. 
shows how it is covered with excrements, and ar¬ 
ranged with branch galleries leading off in other 
directions. When the comb is full of honey the 
worm confines its devastation chiefly to the covers 
of the cells ; but when they are empty or occupied 
with brood, it penetrates through the comb, and 
makes sad havoc as it works its way from sheet 
to sheet, leaving its filthy and impenetrable web 
behind it, and crossing its own track or doubling 
upon its course. Sometimes, even, it is found in ho¬ 
ney put by for family use, or taken to market, which 
then reminds one of the manna that “ bred worms” 
if kept till morning. The worm having eaten to 
its satisfaction of wax, and being ready for the 
chrysalis state, weaves a cocoon, and after a 
while comes out as a moth. Frequently it leaves 
the hive before preparing for this change, and may 
be found in cracks and crevices out of the reach 
of bees. Its appearance at this stage of life is 
represented in fig. 20. 
It has now done its 
mischievous work, but 
may presently have oc¬ 
casion to seek admission Fig. 20. Larva of Bee 
to the hive again, as a Moth, full grown, 
moth, to deposit its eggs for the next generation. 
This is the most annoying pest to which bees 
are subject. It has done more to discourage bee¬ 
keeping and to fill apiarians with disgust, than 
anything else connected with the hive. “ The 
worms got in and killed the bees,” is the com¬ 
mon story told by many who have a stack of 
empty patent hives laid by in the barn, and who 
shake their heads at the folly of those who expect 
to turn bee-keeping to good account. 
The carelessness of bee-keepers is a great help 
to the moth and a great injury to the bees. It is 
very common to leave large pieces of comb and 
abandoned hives in places accessible to the moth, 
where its eggs can be deposited in perfect secu¬ 
rity. The result is, that hundreds of worms may 
be matured in the early part of the Summer which 
soon are changed into moths, to whose attacks 
the hives are subject at a later season. The prog¬ 
eny of a single moth may thus become so numer¬ 
ous that the bees cannot guard themselves against 
their entrance. A moth is supposed to lay four 
or five hundred eggs. To give her, early in the 
season, uninterrupted possession c ' a nest where 
its young can feed in peace, is to msure a rapid 
and pernicious increase. Last Summer we saw 
& 
a, b. 
Fig. 16. 
Eggs of the Bee 
Moth, a. natural 
size, b, magnified. 
