THE CULTIVATOR. 
269 
are butchered a week, 600 cows, and 2000 sheep. The 
bodies of beeves are inflated with bellows made for the 
purpose, before removing the hide. This renders the 
skinning a much easier process, and leaves the fat upon 
the muscle light and fleecy. The meat is taken to the 
shops at night. An inspector is constantly in attendance, 4 
who examines the meat, and if the slightest, taint is dis¬ 
cernible, it is forthwith sent to the Jardin des Plantes to 
feed the animals of the menagerie. The courts are all 
paved, and by means of large reservoirs of water, are kept 
constantly clean. The system is unknown in England, 
but is worthy of imitation by any country. Paris is in¬ 
debted for it, to the same mind to which she owes all 
her great works—the greatest mind that ever belonged 
to one who called himself a Frenchman. 
The beef I saw was miserably poor; and all the arts 
of French dressing and inflation, and Parisian cookery, 
cannot make it for one moment compare with the roast 
beef of Old England. What is true of the beef is more 
true of the mutton. French art is in the dressing, but 
English art is in the making of the meat. It is the 
height of a Frenchman’s pride to make a poor beast 
seem a fat one; it is the pride of an Englishman to make 
a poor one be a fat one. The different styles of dressing 
are classified and improved upon, while little attention 
is paid to breeds. Most of the cattle are hard fleshed 
and raw boned. The color and shape are of every va¬ 
riety. Average price of oxen is from 300 to 330 francs 
per head; of cows, 200 francs per head; calves 80 to 90 
francs. The principal cattle market is held at Poissj r , 
six leagues from Paris; there is nothing similar to the 
Smithfield market of London. 
There are schools in Paris for nearly every thing but 
Agriculture. I am not aware of any institution existing 
to favor its interests. 
Whoever imagines all France a sand plain, with little 
to interest an agricultural eye, has never been along the 
banks of the Seine. Putting aside all notice of the 
pictures given of that river valley, which would be unin¬ 
teresting to your readers—there is yet a show of crops 
which for variety and richness, I do not remember to be 
surpassed by any similar extent of surface in England. 
It is, however, owing more to the richness of soil, than 
to practice of the arts of cultivation. I saw no evidence 
of drilling or draining, though my view was necessarily 
very superficial; and such implements as came under 
notice, were of the most clumsy and antiquated construc¬ 
tion. The lands passed were farmed in small parcels, 
and not unfrequently five or six crops were seen grow¬ 
ing in the same fields. Rye, barley, oats, wheat, and 
potatoes, are grown in nearly equal quantities. With 
the exception of some of the alluvial flats devoted to 
grass, I do not remember to have seen more than five 
or six acres devoted to a single crop. This minute sub¬ 
division of lands, presenting each its peculiar product, 
gives a singular appearance to the country, and as the 
road ran over some eminences, along the banks of the 
rivei’, offering to view a wide extent of territory, the 
effect was wonderful. The wheat heads are just catching 
the color of gold, the oats had taken on the whitish deli¬ 
cate green of full bloom, the rye was white, and here 
and there the reapers, men and women, were cutting or 
binding it; contrasting with it, was the glossy hue of 
long lines of Swedes, or the rich deep green of the tan¬ 
gled tares, or the waving and bristling beards of the bar¬ 
ley. All these colored crops, in stripes or in squares, 
covered the whole banks: sometimes stretching down to 
the very brink of the watei*, and sometimes running 
away—their distinctive shades not lost in the distance, 
far over the opposite hills. 
Of the character of the farm buildings, and the domes¬ 
tic habits of the laborers, I can speak more fully in fu¬ 
ture. One thing is at the outset discernible—great lack 
of that rural taste which belongs so peculiarly to the 
English country liver. 
My letters are written from the spot, and of the spot I 
happen to be in; hence little method is observed. While 
ti’aveling, the same scattered notes must be expected. 
Should circumstances direct an after continuance of cor¬ 
respondence more order will be used. Meantime, I re- 
Yours, truly, D. G. M. 
domestic Correspondence. 
A WORD OR TWO ABOUT BEE HIVES. 
Luther Tucker, Esq. —In making hives for bees, 
there appear to be two important objects to be gained— 
viz: Security against the moth, and to obtain the honey 
without injuring the bees. Almost every new invention 
attempts to perfect one or the other of these objects. 
Upon observing these little insects in their wild state, 
we find them content with almost any clean cavity which 
contains sufficient space and affords them security against 
the weather. Learning this fact, it behooves us to give 
ihem as simple a contrivance as possible to combine com¬ 
fort, security, profit, and neatness. They want no “ pa¬ 
tent fortified palaces,” but a home. Give them a con¬ 
venient and neat one, and they will fortify it themselves 
against all intruders. I have for several years kept bees, 
and have taken an interest in obtaining suitable hives for 
them, have examined a great many patent constructions 
and believe the following simple one, which is free to 
all, combines all the advantages of any of the complex 
patents. 
d 
Fig. 80. 
Fig 80 represents the stock hive placed upon a mova¬ 
ble bottom A, which can be taken out and cleaned at 
pleasure—B B B, are glass windows, with shutters—c c, 
show the entrances which are in the bottom board—d, 
slide made of small hoop iron, working in a saw-cut in 
the side of the stock hive and controlling the door e, 
which connects the two hives. When the stock hive is 
filled, place a brick against the entrance c, set another 
Fig. 81. 
hive on A, as in fig. 81; draw out the slide d, and the bees 
finding no outlet excepting through the new hive by the 
jdoor e, will pass out that way and soon commence 
building in the additional hive. 
These hives are ten inches in the clear in length, 
breadth, and height, and if made in a workmanlike man¬ 
ner, and painted, are an ornament to any grounds, and 
will secure all the honey the swarm can spare, to the 
owner, without injury to one bee. 
In regard to the moth, I would remark, there has not 
one hive come under my observation which offers much 
security against them. To stop their ravages we must 
prevent them from laying their eggs about the hive; to 
effect which the following simple plan (which I see 
some of your correspondents have noticed,) and which I 
have tried for the last three years, is perfectly effective: 
Take a vessel with precipitous sides, a tin cup or por¬ 
ringer for instance; fill it about half full of mild vinegar 
or cider, place them at nightfall on the benches or hives, 
about one to each, and remove them early in the morn 
