378 
THE RUBAI- «fW-YOBK£B. 
JUfiE 3 
£l>c ^Ijiiftnan, 
PARTHENOGENESIS. 
PROFESSOR A. J. COOK. 
In the current volume of the Scientific 
American, page 186, there i* given an abstract 
of some experiments of one Abbe Giotte 
Ulivi, in reference to parthenogenesis among 
bees. The conclusions drawn from these experi¬ 
ments are as startling and as absurd as would 
te the assertion that the progeny resulting 
from mating the horse and the ass would be 
anything but a mule. The statements made not 
only contradict some of the most thoroughly 
settled truths of science, but actually contra¬ 
dict the everyday experienceand observations 
of every intelligent and observing apiarist. 
I should not think that these wild assertions 
were worthy of notice; only that some of the 
papers, eveu the bee-papers, give the article 
a place, and make editorial comments that 
would lead one to think that there was good 
ground for the opinion that Huber, Dzierzon, 
Langstroth and a host of others were all mis¬ 
taken, and did not see what t.bey said they 
saw. Is it possible that one unknown man’s 
mere assertion shall weigh more thau the tes¬ 
timony of mauy widely known and thorough¬ 
ly reliable men, and they, too, often men of 
the very highest scientific attainments ? 
The following are tne points which are de¬ 
nied, most of which are easy of demonstration, 
and some of which are proved by the daily 
experience of every bee-keeper: 
1st, Queens are impregnated outside of the 
hive, and while on the wing; 2d, they are 
fertilized but once; 3rd, drones are killed in 
mating,and some of the genital organs torn off; 
4th, the eggs which hatch into drones are not 
impregnated, and so the law of parthenogene 
sis is true among bees, so far as the drones are 
concerned; 5 th, eggs from virgiu queens wiil 
hatch and all of the bees will be drones; 6th, 
some worker bees will lay eggs. Such bees, 
known as fertile workers, have never mated, 
and all the egg- from them produce drones. 
That queens are fertilized without, and not 
with n the hive, is very easy of demonstra¬ 
tion. In fact, it is demonstrated in nuclei 
hives by the hundreds every year, I have de¬ 
monstrated it in several ways, 1 have clipped 
one of the wings of queens mauy times, 
just as they emerged from the cells, and in 
every case I had a drone-laying queen, if she 
laid at all; though in many cases there were 
scores of dronesin the hive. Of late y T ears 1 have 
had only drones in one or two of my choicest 
hives, having taken care to keep them from 
all the other hives; and in my smalt or nuclei 
hives I seldom have any drones. In such 
cases, if Ulivi is correct, fecundation would 
never occur; yet I almost never fail to secure 
fertilization. I have often shut the young 
queens in the hives, often with drones, and 
never would I secure fertilization till she was 
allowed to fly forth. From our every-day ex¬ 
perience it is hardly possible to refrain from 
the conclusion that Uiivl is a fraud. 
It is just as patent that queens are only 
fertilized once. My queens that are in 
droneless hives, and with wings clipped so that 
they cannot fly out, are, of course, utterly 
precluded from a second mating, and yet they 
remain fertile and lay worker eggs just as long 
as other queens that have good wings, or are 
surrounded with drones. 
It is not so easy to prove that drones are 
killed or mutilated m the sexual act. though 
I have little doubt that it is true. I have seen 
several cases of bumble bee matiug, and in 
every case the d'one was killed. The honey 
bee is so nearly related to tbe bumble bee that 
it is very certain that the same is true of it. 
Again, the drones, if held in the warm hand 
on a warm day, will experience orgasm, and 
at once die. Mr. D. A. Jones .found that he 
had lost a great many more than the usual 
number of queens as they flew forth to mate, 
on his islands last Summer. This is easily ex¬ 
plained ou the theory that the drone expires 
in tha sexual act au i fills to the ground and 
drags the queen with him. In the water she 
would not be able to rise, and of course would 
be lost. 
Of course, I do not positively know by ac¬ 
tual observation that the white thread that 
hangs from a queen as she comes from matiug, 
is a portion of the male genital organs. But I 
have found, with many others, that queens I 
had shut in the hives for five days after they 
had emerged from the pupa state, aud then 
let out to fly, would without exception, com¬ 
mence laying if the white thread was appended 
to tbe abdomen, even though there were no 
drones in the hive, and would fail as surely to 
lay worker eggs, when the white filament was 
absent. I have had several experimental queens 
reared in the early Spring, before there were 
any drones, and they would fly out every day 
and return, but never carry tbe filament at¬ 
tached to the abdomen. Any one can easily 
try this, and will become convinced very soon 
that with no drones there will be no thread. 
That drone eggs are fecundated, will be 
very surprising to the many apiarists that have 
reared queens when there were no drones, in 
late Fall and early Spring, and found that there 
were abundant eggs laid, but that all pro¬ 
duced, without exception, drones. Ulivi’s 
assertion that eggs remain over the Winter, 
might find credence before the days of founda¬ 
tion, but now it will fall so flat that it will 
have only two dimensions. 
Ulivi’s last statement—that there are no 
such bees as fertile workers—makes me think 
of Byron’s remark in reference to Bishop 
Berkley: “When Bishop Berkley said there 
was no matter, it was no matter what Bishop 
Berkley said.” It is an exceedingly unfor¬ 
tunate time to th row such a remark at Ameri¬ 
can bee-keepers. Our new bees—the Syrian 
and Cyprian—will give us fertile workers with 
more facility than Ulivi can make unwar¬ 
ranted statements, Such au assertion needs 
no refutation in America, no matter what is 
true in France 
Michigan Agricultural College. 
for VUomcn. 
CONDUCTED BY MISS RAY CI.ARK. 
OH, THE PLEASANT DAYS OF OLD ! 
Oh, the pleasant days of old, wht h people so often 
priiise! 
True, they wanted all the luxuries that grace our 
modern day#; 
Bare lloors were strewed with rushes; the walls let 
In the cold; 
Oh, how they must have shivered In those pleasant 
days of old! 
Oh ! those ancient lords of old, how magnificent they 
were! 
They threw down aud Imprison’d kings—to thwart 
them who might dare ? 
They ruled their serfs right sternly ; they took from 
Jews thf Ir gold— 
Above both law and equity were those great lords of 
old! 
Oh, the gallant knights of old, for their valor so rc- 
nown’d! 
With sword andlani’e, and armor strong, they scour’d 
the co untry round; 
Aud whenever aught to tempt them they meet by 
wood or wold, 
By right of swo d they seiz’d ilie prize—those gallant 
knights of old! 
Oh, tlie gentle dames of old! who, quite free from 
fear or pain. 
Could gaze on jou»t and tournament, and see their 
eliampioos slain ; 
They lived on good beefsteaks and ale, which made 
them strong and bold — 
Oh, more like men than women were those gentle 
dames of old! 
Oh! those mighty towers of old ! with their turrets, 
moat, aud keep, 
Their ba tlements aud bastions, their dungeons dark 
and deep. 
Full many a baron held his court within the castle 
hold, 
And many a captive languish'd there, In those strong 
towers of old! 
Oh, the troubadours of old! with their gentle iniu- 
slrelt ie 
Of hope and joy, or deep despair, whlche’er their U t 
might be— 
For years they served their ladye-love ere they t heir 
passion told. 
Oh, wondrous patience must have had tho.e trouba¬ 
dours of old! 
Oh,those blessed times of old! with their chivalry 
and state, 
I love to read their chronicles, which such brave deeds 
relate; 
I love to slug ihelr ancient rhymes, to hear their 
legends told— 
But, Heaven be thank'd! I live not in those blessed 
times of old! Frances Browne. 
KNITTING. 
SHETLAND SHAWLS FOR SUMMER. 
No. 1.—Many girls are so fond of knitting, 
and exhibit such beautiful specimens of such 
work, that I feel sure they will be glad to be 
able to knit a handsome Shetland shawl for 
some dear friend or themselves. 
About twenty ounces of Shetland or Ger¬ 
mantown wool will make a large double 
sbawl, for which I will give you two patterns. 
Use No. 6 or 7 needles, and cast on any num¬ 
ber of stitches that will divide by 6, adding 2 
at each end for the edges, always to be knitted 
plain, slipping off the first odc; then 1st row, 
slip off tbe first stitch, knit one plain (this is 
the edge), * throw the thread over, slip I, knit 
3 together, pass slipped stitch over, 3 plain; 
repeat from * to the end (except edge stitches). 
Second row—edge stitches as directed; then 
purl to the end again. Third row—(edge 
stiches) then 3 plain, over, * slip 1, knit 2 to¬ 
gether, pass slipped stitch over, over, repeat 
from *. Repeat from first row. 
No. 3. Striped Pattern.—Same needles, cast 
on any number that may be divided by 24, 
adding two at each end, for edge stitches al¬ 
ways to be knitted plain, and will never 1 e 
mentioned. First row, 2 plain, over; knit 2 
together, 3 plain, over; knit 2 together, over, 
knit 2 together twice, pass the one over the 
other—forming one 1 stitch, over, 3 plain, 
over, knit 2 together; repeat from the begin¬ 
ning. 
Second row—purl (after the edge stitches, 
which always remember); every alternate row 
is purled. 
Third row—1 plain, knit 2 together, over, 3 
plain, knit 2 togother, over, knit 3 together, 
over, kDit 2 together, over, 1 plain, over, 2 
together, over, 2 together, over, 3 plain, 2 
together, over, 1 plain; repeat from edge 
stitches. 
Fouith (and each alternate row), purl. 
Fifth row—edge: 2 plain, over, 2 together, 1 
plain, 2 together, over, 2 together, over, 2 
together, over, 3 plain, over, 2 together, over, 
2 together, over, 2 together, 2 plain, over, 2 
together. 
Sixth row—repeat from edge stitches. 
Seventh row—1 plain, 2 together, over, 1 
plain, 2 together, over, 2 together, over, 2 
together over; 3 plain, over; 3 together, over; 
2 together, over; 2 together twice; pass one 
over the other as before, over, 1 plain. 
Eighth row—repeat. 
Ninth row—2plain, over, 2 together, 1 plain, 
over, 2 together, over, 2 together, over, 2 to¬ 
gether, 1 plain, over, 2 together, 2 plain, over, 
2 together, over, 2 together, over, 1 plain, 2 
together. 
Tenth row—repeat, from edge stitches. 
Eleventh row—1 plain, knit 2 together, over, 
8 plain, over, 3 together, over, 2 together, over, 
2 together, 2 plain, 2 together, over, 2 together, 
over, 1 plain. 
Twelfth row—repeat. 
Thirteenth row—commence again at first 
row. 
POCKETS. 
Mary Wager Fisher has my sympathy in 
her “ pocket perplexity,” for I have had so 
much trouble with pocket*, hid away in a 
never to-be-found seam, that twist about at 
pleasure, and are continually sat on. I entirely 
discard all such pockets, and now pattern 
from the hip pockets found in men’s pants. 
The reason that a man can carry letters, 
books, papers, etc., without injuring them 
past all recognition, is because his pockets are 
so hung that they are always in place, and 
their positiou to the body is such that they 
are protected by it. Small scratch-books can 
be carried in tbe pockets that jackets and 
cloaks are provided with. Inside and outside 
breast pockets can be added at pleasure. 
When sleeves are flninhed with wide cuffs, a 
hook can be made to fit in between the sleeve 
and cuff,on either tbe upper or under side, I find 
that the most convenient, place for a dress- 
pocket, where it fits itself to the form. i» on the 
front of the skirt, tbe same a« the front pockets 
in men’s pants. Eut the pocket I make fast to 
the skirt lining in the way that their bip- 
poekets are hung, with tne opening just far 
enough up under the basque to be out of 
sight. The present style of so much fullness 
about the hips iu over-skirts and polonaises, 
completely conceals its position. MRS. m. c. 
TOURNURES. 
White muslin skirts are made to do duty 
as toumures by simply adding any required 
number of ruffles at the back, and hiving 
these starched very stilly. A substitute for 
this is found in some imported costumes, the 
bouffant effect being produced by plaitings of 
crossbarred muilin of sheer, coarse quality, 
laid ou a foundation of the same material, 
and tacked inside the skirt. In order to make 
this extender as light as possible, the edges of 
tbe rufll's are simply notched with the scissors, 
and not hemmed. All that is necessary to 
keep this touruure in order is to remove it 
when rumpled, sp» inkle it with starch water, 
aud roll it uo until it is thoroughly damped 
all through, then put it into shape, dry, and 
replace it without ironing. When the tasteful 
and becoming home toilet is supplemented by 
a carefully arranged coiffure, and feet daintily 
dressed with pretty slippers or low shoes of 
kid or morocct, and embroidered or colored 
hose of silk, thread, or cotton, whichever is 
best adapted to the style of dress, the result 
cannot fail to be pleasing, and there is little 
left to desire. 
Citrnmj. 
THE STOET OF STONY BROOK FARM. 
HENRY STEWART. 
(Continued from page 362.) 
CHAPTER t 
“Go and live there,” said George, “go to 
work at it and get the thing into order and 
profitable condition. Let us go “ and grow up 
with it,” as Horace Greely said abiut the 
West; here’s Emily pining for it and to tell 
the truth I have been just as anxious for it for 
some time back. In fact I believe there is no 
life so secure, so independent, so full of com¬ 
fort and satisfaction, or so conducive to an 
honorable or useful way of living as that of a 
farmer. And I believo too that it is an occu¬ 
pation which can be made far more profitable 
than the average farming, if it is managed 
with as much energy and economy and on as 
strict business principles as ordinary mercan¬ 
tile affairs are.” 
“Oh! George, George, what a two faced young 
man you are, after what you said a little while 
ago ” said Emily. 
“ You are quite right, George,” said his 
uncle. “All the farmers about there are liv¬ 
ing in comfort and ease, and it is because they 
eitberareskillful dairymen or are apt to grow 
such crops as will make the most from the 
land.” 
‘ I think we may consider the thing settled. 
There’s little difficulty when all are agreed ” 
said Mrs. Bates. 
“ But Emily,” said herUncle, “you haven’t 
yet told me what there was at Uncle John’s 
that was in your mind when we came in.” 
“ Well Uncle it’s just this. There is always 
something to do that is never wearisome; 
there is a constant change; plenty of useful 
work which keeps one from becoming dull; so 
much to see and observe; so many wonderful 
things going ou silently about one, that make 
oue look closely into them and think about 
them; and then most of these when one comes 
to study them, are such beautiful surprises, 
that the wonder is always excited and in ex¬ 
pectation of new discoveries. And then Uncle, 
how delicious ones food is, although it is of 
the plainest kind; and what a pleasure it is to 
eat; and sleep? why the restfulness of one’s 
sleep after a day of constant and interesting 
work or study, is something that we city folks 
only realize whan we got into the country for 
a short time every year. Then when I see 
the nice butter and the fresh eggs packed to 
go to the city, I think how much pleasure can 
be conferred upon other people while my 
cousins are doing their work, and its a real 
pleasure too, at least I should feel it to be a 
pleasure, to be making other people comfort¬ 
able and adding to their enjoyments.” 
“Ah Emily you are all too sympathetic” 
said George; after all it’s a sordid matter of 
pay aud money and the money and pay too 
often are scarcely adequate for the labor. It 
is too small an affair to get sentimental about 
it. Remember wbafc Tityrus said on this sub¬ 
ject; “ Although many a victim departed from 
my flocks and rich cheese was pressed for the 
ungrateful city, my haud never returned 
home filled with money.” Now I should rather 
be all tbe more gratified to know that I c uld 
squeeze from oth«r people a little more money 
by consulting their tastes ani whims, and all 
the more content that they should on their 
part feel aud rejoice that they were adding to 
my pleasure and happiness by paying me more 
foi what I sold to them than ttiey paid to 
other people. In fact I go in for all I can get 
and to give no more for it than I can help; 
whether I be a farmer or a lawyer or a doctor; 
or a dealer in dry goods who cares much more 
about the prices of his wares, than the pleasure 
of the women who wear them.” 
“ But there's no difference, is there, Uncle 
John, so long as we should each be pleased 
with the result of our work?" 
“Not in the least Emily, and I confess that 
your view is the one that will give the most 
pleasure to a person whoisdoing.skilled work; 
the artist feels and thinks in that way; so does 
the poet and the scientiti i man; these all have 
their hearts in their work; they do it for the 
love of it as well as for the profit of it; and 
the fanner that can work in the same spirit, 
will be a good farmer and a successful one 
because his work will be always done p ell and 
conscientiously. So Emily, my dear; I am 
sure that you will soon become a real gilt-edge 
dairy woman, aud in time have a high reputa¬ 
tion as a skillful benefactor of so many of 
your race as may be fortunate enough to 
become your customers. ’ ’ 
“Your father and I were brought up on a 
farm. He chose a profession and I chose to 
keep the farm. I doubt now if he has had 
any more comfort or has made more money 
from his profession, than I have from my 
work. It is true ho is richer than I am, but a 
fortunate accident brought him his wealth and 
an unfortunate accident may deprive him of 
it. I am glad therefore to think that he has 
been able to sejure a home that cannot be 
taken from you, for as it is your mothers, it is 
safe from any reverse of fortune that might 
happen to business investments through sense¬ 
less panics and other accidents. On a farm no 
one fears such things; the uoi-e of the storm 
may be heard, but its whirl aud force are not 
felt. We see tha wrecked houses and ru ; ned 
families swept past as by a mighty fl »cd, but 
weaie beyond the reach of the disaster.” 
“You have much to learn, however. 
George, I think, would do well to spend a 
year at a good Agricultural College or with a 
good farmer; and you Emily, as there are no 
dairy schools or colleges for young women, 
can if you like spmd a year wi h v our cousins 
and learn your part of the business. I under¬ 
stand your father proposes to no to Europe 
for a year for your mother’s health; and during 
that time both you and George can prepare to 
take charge of the farm and have it iu readi¬ 
ness for their return. In the mean tim e I 
