iug.o.j 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
fied, open the hive, perform whatever operations 
are desired ; then ventilate with fresh air suffi¬ 
ciently to remove any remaining vapor, and the 
next morning the hees will be as active and lively 
as if nothing had happened to them. No harm 
will ensue, if the chloroforming be not carried on 
at first to a needless degree and length of time. 
Bees Swarming Without a Queen. 
[We have a large accumulation of communications on 
Bees, some waspish, some honied, and most of them 
need combing. We are retaining them in our hive until 
we can get a little more time to strain out the real honey 
they contain.— Ed.] 
To the Editor of the American Agriculturist: 
As an indication that the queen does not a - 
ways announce when the young s»varm shall 
leave the old hive, I will relate an incident as it 
transpired some years since at my apiary. 
In our Southern country, where the heat be¬ 
comes oppressive sometimes as early as April 
and May, the bees congregate on the outside of 
the hive in large numbers, so as to give the in¬ 
siders more air and .room for the proper rearing 
of the young. At several of my hives these 
outsiders, thus early, were very numerous ; 
rather an indication of early swarms. One of 
these hives refused to swarm, although exceed¬ 
ingly strong in hees. Most of the other hives 
swarmed in June. On July 3d, I discovered great 
uneasiness among the outsiders of this hive, and 
this continued during the entire day. I became 
uneasy-lest they might be killing a queen. On 
the following day the agitation among the 
numerous outsiders became still greater; and at 
one o’clock they all, at one time, left Hie hive, 
swarmed a short time, and, finding that the in¬ 
siders would not join them, they bolted back 
into the hive. After a short delay out they came 
in increased numbers, settled, and were easily 
hived. When they returned to the hive they 
first imparted their agitation to all insiders, then 
took their farewell stock of honey in, and 
swarmed in regular order. This novel proceed¬ 
ing I have witnessed several times; but all 
hives that have thus thrown out a swarm have 
invariably died off, probably for the want of a 
queen, which was in this irregular way forced to 
leave the hive. J. 13. 
Forsyth Co., N. C. 
Why Don’t ths Hens Lay? 
To the Editor of Ike American Agriculturist : 
Last Summer my one dozen hens gave me 
nine and ten eggs regularly every day—Sundays 
not excepted ; hut now, when the neighboring 
grocer charges “four for a shilling,” (three 
cenis each.) the egg fountains, as old Diogenes 
has it, are all sealed up, and ‘ nary egg’ has been 
the tune for a long time. Pray, sir, what is the 
cause of this falling off! It cannot be for the 
want of food, as I make it a point to keep corn 
constantly by ihern ; and when there is no snow 
on the ground, I give them water. There is 
also an open hovel that they can take shelter 
under and roost in, although I find many of 
them prefer to spend the night in the tops of the 
neighboring apple trees ; and, singular as it may 
seem, the colder and more foibidding the night, 
the higher they go for a roosting place. Now, 
if there is anything more I can do for them, 
please inform me, a recent subscriber to the 
Agriculturist. J. S. Angeli., 
Addison Co., Vt. 
Remarks. — Tn the Summer the fowls obtained 
an abundance of animal food—worms, grasshop¬ 
pers, bugs, and other insects. In the Winter 
j these supplies are cut off. Try feeding them 
daily with bits of refuse meat, and see how 
eagerly they will devour them. Some kind of 
animal food is almost indispensable for laying 
hens. Milk, or milk curds, make a good substi¬ 
tute. Scraps or meat cake, easily obtained in 
large quantity and cheaply from the lard or tal¬ 
low triers, are very good for fowls. (In this 
city it is sold at a low price, in large cakes, the 
size of a barrel head, and eight to twelve inches 
thick—sometimes in square form.) The price is 
usually about $20 per tun—one cent per 
pound. Let the fowls have meat in some form. 
In Summer they get green vegetables. In Win¬ 
ter let them have cabbage leaves, turnip tops, or 
potatoes or turnips boiled. Corn is passably 
gooi for fattening, but not to make eggs out of 
alone. Oats contain more egg ■ material. To 
lay well they should have warm quarters, where 
water will scarcely freeze. Let them always 
have plenty of unchilled water ; snow is a poor 
substitute. They want a scratching place, or, at 
least, access to gravel; and without lime they 
cannot make egg-shells. Finely-powdered hones 
or oyster shells, or old mortar, supply lime, 
which they must have in some form. They 
have constitutional objections to laying eggs 
without shells. An ash heap, to roll in 
is good to keep off insects. Access to the 
sun on warm days they will plainly show you is 
a treat they enjoy. In short, give them meat or 
milk for animal food, with some soft vegetables; 
lime, to make shells of; plenty of water to 
drink and supply the liquid part of the egg; as 
much mixed grain as they like to eat, and gravel 
to grind it with ;» clean, warm houses and nests, 
with air and sunlight, to keep them healthy, and 
you will unseal the egg fountains. The nearer 
their Winter food and habits can approach to 
those of Summer, the nearer will the supply of 
eggs be.equalized. 
For the American Agriculturist. 
‘‘•Westward Bound.” 
-o- 
Doubtless, there are many attractions in farm- 
life at the West, The fertility of the virgin soil, 
the abundance and cheapness of land, and the 
comparative ease of cultivating it—especially 
prairie-land—the satisfaction of gathering large 
crops, and the prospect of rapidly acquiring 
wealth ; these and the like things make many 
young farmers at the E.st discontented with 
their lot, and lead some annually to sell their 
homes, and to push towards the setting sun. 
Some succeed according to their expectations ; 
but very many do not. Land purchased, proves 
inferior to what it was represented; the im¬ 
provements needed upon it, absorb all the profits 
for many years ; contemplated railroads, or other 
facilities for getting crops to market, are not 
constructed ; sickness in new forms invades the 
household ; long separation from old friends and 
kindred begets sadness and discontent ; and, 
finally, nearly all the members of the family 
mourn the day when they set out to seek their 
fortunes at the West. 
We, by no means, counsel all young farmers 
to remain at the East. “ Westward the star of 
empire takes its way,” and many should follow 
it. But let every man think twice before he 
makes the final resolve. It is no light thing for 
one already comfortably situated, to sell out 
house and home, and start in life again amid un¬ 
tried scenes. Even if ordinarily successful in 
acquiring property, he is compelled to sacrifice 
many things of great value. This is especially 
so, if the homestead he sells, is one which has 
descended to him from his ancestors, and if lie 
is surrounded by kindred anil friends whom he 
has known and loved from childhood. The land 
he would sell, bears traces still of his forefathers’ 
footsteps. The house was also the home of 
those 'who gave him birth. Yonder fruit-trees 
were planted by his father. His grandfather set 
out the venerable elms which overshadow the 
lawn and the gates by the roadside. By the lit¬ 
tle brook, overhung with willows, he played with 
his sisters in childhood. Across yonder field 
winds the foot-path where he went to the vil-. 
lage school. Beneath those maples, at the cor¬ 
ner of the street, he plighted his love to the fair 
maiden who has since become the mother of his 
children. From Lis window he hears the Sab¬ 
bath hell which called his fathers for several 
generations to the house of God ; and, not. far 
away, is the burial-place where their sacred dust 
reposes. 
He who sells out such a home, parts with 
something which money can not. buy, hut whose 
value he does not fully appreciate until he has 
lost it. He separates himself from scenes and 
influences which can not possibiy be found in a 
new country, however fertile its soil or beautiful 
its scenery. 
[Remarks.— With the general spirit of the 
above we freely concur. When one can remain 
upon the old homestead it is advisable. The 
same energy and active enterprise which would 
secure competency and wealth at the West, 
would almost invariably renovate the old farm, 
and bring it up to a high point of fertility and 
profit. But there is not always room in the old 
hive for all the young swarms. Some must go 
forth, or be driven forth, to seek new quarters • 
and such can often do better at the West, where 
cheap land and a virgin soil invite their occupa¬ 
tion. If a young couple, start out early, and lo¬ 
cate not too far into the wilderness, the chances 
are, that in our rapid growing country, society, 
schools, and churches, Avill be well under way by 
the time their children are old enough to greatly , 
need them. We certainly think it better for 
some of the younger members of a neighborhood 
to push out to unoccupied fields, taking each 
other’s sisters with them as helpmates, than 
for half a dozen sons, more or less, to hang like 
drones around the old hive. 
We have witnessed many a parting scene, 
where one or more of the sons and daughters 
from a household were taking their leave of the 
paternal roof, to strike westward, full of buoyant 
hope; and, though there are always certain 
melancholy thoughts at such times, yet, on the 
whole, the season is one of great interest to us. 
The young men and women thus starting out, are 
going to take their places as actors in the great 
and growing western portion of our Confederacy 
And they make worthy citizens there. We 
have traveled in the far West somewhat, were 
born and brought up in what was once consider¬ 
ed “ the West,” and we but speak what we feel 
and know, when we say that these western 
people who have early left the eastern hives, are 
among the most enterprising, worthy, substan¬ 
tial citizens of our land. Let those who can 
find room, and who are so inclined, remain East_ 
the more the better—but we would not discour¬ 
age the young, the active, the enterprising, from 
seeking their homes and their fortunes towards ‘ 
the setting sun.— Ed.] 
-- . - ana--- 
Standard of Value.— The worth of every 
thing is determined by the demand for it. In the 
deserts of Arabia, a pitcher of cold water is o, 
more value than mountains of silver and gold. 
