1870.] 
AMERICAN AGRICULTURIST. 
11 
Bes Notes.— By M. Quiriby. 
Apiary for January.—Probably there was never a 
time when a really thrifty man, in any business, could find 
absolutely nothing to do ; and probably that bee-keeper 
remains to be found who can build high the roaring fire, 
heavily heap the board of good cheer, and abandoning 
himself to the enjoyment of the summer’s garnered fruits, 
say, “ Now, at least, has come a time when my charge de¬ 
mands not even the slightest care.” Remember the 
enemies of bees are abroad, creeping under the snow, 
making for themselves passages, it may be, into your 
hives, and may be at this moment taking up their per¬ 
manent winter residences in the very strongholds of your 
pets. In cold weather, bees gather into as compact a 
mass as possible, even the cells of the combs in the in¬ 
terior of the cluster arc mostly filled. Now, if the hives 
arc outdoors and the weather very cold, the honey in 
one locality is soon consumed, and the bees must reach 
it in other quarters or die. But there is continually aris¬ 
ing from a mass of bees considerable moisture. Unless 
carried off, it accumulates and freezes on the combs, and 
a bee would die if it moved under such circumstances. 
Even if the moisture escapes by ventilation, and there is 
no passage from one part of the hive to another, except 
around the chilling edges of the combs, the bees will 
often freeze, even with plenty of honey in the hive. 
Ilenc# the necessity, especially where movable frames 
are used, of seeing that there are openings near the 
middle of the combs. The cross-sticlc in box-hives gener¬ 
ally cause holes to be left in building, which will an¬ 
swer for them. When the weather continues cold for 
three weeks or more at a time, bees outdoors should be 
brought in and thoroughly warmed, so that the frost 
about them will melt and the combs dry. Let it be done 
in a dark room or in the evening. Frequent warm spells 
occur in this latitude (Central N. Y.) which generally 
render this unnecessary. At such time, if the ground is 
bare or the snow covered with a hard crust, bees may 
and ought to fly, but if a light snow is on the ground use 
every means to prevent it. A bee can alight on an icy 
crust and rise again, but in a soft snow it sinks to die. 
Careful shading helps keep them back. Straw hives 
which present a thick mass of non-conducting material 
are hotter than wooden ones under such circumstances. 
Avoid all unnecessary disturbance. If the hives are 
covered with snow, let them alone. They will do well if 
properly cared for to begin With. When there is but 
little snow, sweep away occasionally and clear the air- 
passages of dead bees. If a warm day loosens the hives, 
raise them and sweep the bottom boards. Protect from 
cold winds as much as possible. A warm, south-eastern 
exposure is best for an apiary. A correspondent placed 
his hives near together in the fall, and packed straw all 
about them, allowing it to project about 14 inches in front 
from between the hives. This would break the force of 
the wind. This is the month when thousands of weak 
stocks will freeze to death, victims of costly carelessness. 
The presence of honey remote from the cluster will not 
avail them. There should be an inch hole about one- 
third of the distance from the bottom of the front side of 
the hive to the top. This will help if the bottom should 
chance to be closed. Bees flying out might be saved 
sometimes if there is a short passage to the cluster in¬ 
side without having to crawl through the frosty space 
from the bottom up. The presence of mice may be 
known by their nibblings on the bottom. Trap them; 
poison might be communicated to the honey. Tall hives 
for outdoor wintering are better than low, flat ones; 
they bring bees and honey in the most favorable relative 
positions—honey above, bees below. The bees can reach 
the honey by simply crawling up—very different from 
going from comb to comb; besides, warmth rises from 
the bees and prevents frost from accumulating over them. 
It is objected to such hives that they do not afford the 
requisite space for boxes. Perhaps the best form for the 
box-hive is a me'dium between the two extremes, say a 
foot square in the clear by 14 inches high. Bees in doors 
must be visited to see that all is right. Keep the trap 
set for vermin. The room must be dark and dry, and the 
temperature always a few degrees above the freezing point. 
Sprinkle lime on the floor, to neutralize any disagreeable 
odor from dead bees. Bees in this latitude do best 
housed ; farther South a little is gained in their earlier 
breeding by leaving them out, a matter of much import¬ 
ance in the spring. Winter is the time for preparing 
hives and boxes for another year. Remember that 
the longer hives are painted before using, the better. 
Bee-Keepers’ Convention.— The bee-keepers of 
the West have been holding conventions, and why should 
not we? Every interest must organize or fall behind. We 
need, for the successful prosecution of honey-raising, a 
rapid communication of all that observation and experi¬ 
ence are every day bringing to light. Newspapers help, 
but they are not sufficient. A thousand points of interest 
and value would be brought out in a convention which 
never would find their way ta the newspapers. Many 
observe who but rarely tell what they see though the 
press; but conventions bring out details. There is noth¬ 
ing like personal intercourse to elicit truth. I would 
suggest the calling of a convention—say in February 
or March—to meet at a convenient point, with a view 
to permanent organization. Let us hear from others. 
IPatemts.— My uncompromising hostility to every 
sort of patent hive is known. I am glad to see resist¬ 
ance to them anywhere, not because they are always 
worthless, hut because, generally speaking, they have 
been one unmitigated swindle. But let us have a care 
lest this hostility to patents blind us to real merit. The 
old box-hive, I think, is destined to be superseded by 
movable frames in some form, and new and valuable de¬ 
vices may be invented and patented. But as to the bevel 
guide for straight combs, about which so much is said, 
don’t be swindled into paying for the right of using it. 
A friend of mine in St. Lawrence County recently paid 
$25 for what no man would have troubled him for using 
before. The same common sense that makes a good far¬ 
mer or merchant will usually enable a man to steer clear 
of these humbugs and make bee-keeping a success. 
Horse Papers for Farmers. Ho. 1. 
BY A SPECIAL CONTRIBUTOR. 
* It seems to me that the Horse question needs 
to be presented to farmers somewhat different¬ 
ly from the manner in which most of the ex¬ 
cellent works on the subject set it forth; for, 
while those who make a special business of 
horse breeding, and even those who raise one 
or two colts a year for sale, are most benefited 
by the instructions contained in these works; 
they are not suited to all the wants of a farmer 
who regards a horse only as a part of the outfit 
of liis business, or as a means of recreation,— 
who never sells a horse and would be glad 
never to buy one,—raising such as he wants 
and wearing them out in his own service. 
I like to think of this sort of relationship be¬ 
tween a farmer and his family, and the horses of 
the farm. It implies an affectionate fondness for 
the faithful animals which ensures their kind 
and considerate treatment, and the cultivation 
of an interest in them, which is one of the best 
parts of the education of a farmer’s children, 
and which will do more than anything else to 
attach them to their homes and to an occupa¬ 
tion about which such interests cluster. Oxen— 
good natured dumb beasts though they are— 
are not especially lovable, and they always sug¬ 
gest the coming butcher; cows are better, but 
they are bought and sold without much regard 
to anything but dollars and cents; while the 
smaller animals and the poultry usually finish 
their career within a year or so. A horse on 
the other hand, which has been raised on the 
farm and ends his days in his breeder’s posses¬ 
sion, becomes.almost a member of the family, 
and may follow its fortunes for a quarter of a 
century—growing up with the children and con¬ 
necting himself throughout their lives with their 
most interesting reminiscences of childhood. 
Taking this view of the subject, every farmer 
who is a farmer not alone from necessity, but 
from choice as well, should endeavor to have 
one or more horses that are fully identified 
with his farm as a home. He should raise them 
himself and should never fix a price on them 
for a dealer, nor regard them so much a part of 
his commercial stock, as belonging to the ocr- 
manent fixtures of his establishment. 
Shortly after I moved into my present neigh¬ 
borhood, a few years ago, I hired a neighbor to 
break up a piece of sod for me. His team was 
a pair of oxen with a horse on the lead. As 
they swung into my barn-yard from a side 
road, my attention was immediately attracted 
by the horse. As I walked towards him with 
an interested look, his owner jumped down out 
of the cart and came forward with a pleased air 
and asked what I thought of him. I eyed him 
carefully over, wondering how such a horse 
ever came to lead a pair of oxen, for he seemed 
to be in the prime of life and had better points 
than many a thousand-dollar nag that I had 
seen in the city. His legs were fine and free 
from puffing, his ears were thin, well-shaped 
and active, and the whole air of his head was 
perfect. I followed him into the field and watch¬ 
ed his work. He stepped off in a brisk know¬ 
ing way, without any fuss, but with a perfect 
business-like gait,, tossing his head now and 
then as though indignant at having to keep 
pace with oxen. As I was in want of a horse, 
I watched him more closely than I should other¬ 
wise have done, even with his decided attrac¬ 
tions, and at length sounded my neighbor to 
get his opinion of him. He was loud in his 
praise, and, I began to think, was paving the 
way for a large price. Finally I asked his ago 
and was referred to his mouth, when I found to 
my great surprise, that he was a very old horse; 
too old for buying and selling to be thought of. 
However, to carry out the joke, I asked, “how 
much will you lake for him?” “There ain’t 
money enough on this farm to buy that horse,— 
that horse ain’t never ben sold and he ain’t 
agoin’ to be; my father raised that horse from 
a colt and he raised his mother before him. He 
was foalded twenty-eight year ago this month, 
and when the women folks hitches him up to 
go to town, it’s jest all they can do sometimes 
to hold him, now. He was got by a runnin’ 
horse that Buckley’s father over here used 
to keep, and them tliet’s got his colts don’t want 
nothin’ better. Accordin’ to my my notion, if 
you want blood any where you want it on a 
farm. That aid horse to-day ’ll tend a third 
more corn ’n any other you can bring, an’ he 
won’t never set his foot onto a hill all day long.” 
Only a few days ago as I was riding at a 
brisk gallop along the road, I saw that same 
old horse grazing by the road-side. As I drew 
near he gave a whinny and—head and tail up— 
wheeled around and invited me for a run, 
which my rascal was ready for, and I had for a 
few minutes, hard work to keep him from it. 
Finally, the veteran, disgusted, gave a snort and 
trotted off home like a colt. I have seen him 
going through town (exerting every muscle to 
its utmost, but over-straining nothiug) leading 
two yok£ of oxen before a load of manure, and 
I have seen him plodding along to meeting on 
Sunday before a carry-all full of children, with 
the air of a steady church-goer, who considered 
even a lively trot improper. In short, he is ex¬ 
actly the sort of horse that every farmer should 
have—steady, honest, active,cheerful, intelligent, 
and perfectly good tempered, ready for work 
week in and week out, as fit for duty now as 
when he was seven years old, and as reliable 
for all kinds of service then as now. 
This is no ideal animal that I have imagined 
for the entertainment of my readers; but a real 
flesh and blood, chestnut horse, with a white 
stripe in his face, that I see constantly in my 
neighbor’s team. He cost no more to raise and 
he costs no more to keep, than the veriest club¬ 
footed, “lunkhead” that spends half his life on 
three legs, and I would rather take my chance 
of getting a full season’s work out of him the 
coming year than out of any other farm-horse 
that I know’. He may die any day, but until 
he does die he will be “ for duty.” He will be 
game to the very end as is the nature of his 
wiry tribe. He is not only a real horse, but he 
is of the type that every farmer may have who 
will go to work in the right way to get it. The 
whole secret is explained in my neighbor’s 
