106 
THE COTTAGE GARDENER AND COUNTRY GENTLEMAN, November 16, 1858. 
Henry Boothby, Esq., of Holme Cottage, near Louth, 
sent a Seedling Apple of some promise. It is reported 
to be a most abundant bearer, every branch being loaded 
with fruit all round it, like an ear of Indian Corn. The 
fruit had been kept some time, till it should ripen, and 
was, in consequence of frequent exposures, in a state not 
quite calculated to do it justice. In flavour, however, it 
was sweet, and remarkably fragrant when cut. A strong 
desire was expressed to see it again in a future year. 
Messrs. Youell, of Great Yarmouth, sent a collection 
of twelve Seedling Apples, said to have heen found 
growing in a wood near Stalham Hall, in Norfolk. The 
greater part of them were unripe, and ordered to be kept 
for future examination; one of them, however (No. 13), 
was pronounced to be Court of Wide. 
LIST OF PLANTS BLOOMING IN OCTOBER, 
AT THE ROYAL GARDENS, KEW. 
Lamiace.e. — Teucrium lucidum ; Salvia confertifolia, S. 
Mexicana. 
Leguminos.e. —Coronilla Emerus. 
Composite. —Aster Nova; Anglia;, A. pulclierrimus, A. pu- 
niceus, A. ltevis ; Solidago velatina ; Iva fragrans; Yernonia 
fercicularis ; Pyrethrum Chinense. 
Campanulace.e.— Campanula stricta. 
Myrtaceje.— Eugenia apiculata. 
Ericaceje. —Arbutus unedo. 
Caprifoliace.e.—V iburnum tinus. 
Rhamnaceas. —Ceanotlius azureus. 
Ranunculaceje.— Aeonitum autumnalis. 
Asphodelace*. —Kniphofia Burchellii. 
Hemerocallidaceje. —Hemerocallis fulva. 
Iridace.e —Sisyrinchium striatum. 
BEE-KEEPING IN DEVON—No. V. 
FROM GRAVE TO GAY—CRITICISMS — ANTICIPATIONS — HOPES 
AND FEARS — THE WIDE, WIDE WORLD—CONSIDER YOUR 
VERDICT, GENTLEMEN — INSECT PERSEVERANCE — ANOTHER 
TRIP — OBLIGING FRIENDS —A SERIOUS OMISSION — BARE¬ 
FACED ATTACK—SKIRMISH—REMEDY FOR A STING —A SECOND 
ATTACK—VIGOROUS REPULSE—A FUGITIVE AND A HERO. 
The gloomy thoughts induced by the lamentable tragedy related 
in my last were completely banished the next morning, by finding, 
in The Cottage Gardener, an article headed “Bee-keeping 
in Devon. —No. I.” “’Tis pleasant, sure, to see one’s-self in 
print; ” and, many years having elapsed since I enjoyed that 
privilege, I may be supposed to have experienced some of the 
exquisite emotions of a neophyte. First, I read the article care¬ 
fully through, and praised the printer for the correctness with 
which he had deciphered my not too legible “copy.” Next, I 
admired the beauty of the type, and felicitated myself on having 
hit on what I could not but consider an attractive style of heading. 
Then ensued a slight reaction, and 1 became critical: I thought 
the table would have looked better in “ Nonpareil,” * and began 
to fancy that a dry statement of facts and figures was but an 
indifferent body for so comely a head. Resolving to avoid this 
fault in future, I gave the reins to my imagination, and pictured 
to myself the time (not perhaps so very far distant), when I too, 
in common with another and more able correspondent, might be 
entitled to style myself “ An old Apiarian ;” when, perchance, 
as time advanced, Bee-keeping in Devon, or, possibly, some 
other locality, might require more than one C to express in 
numerals my oft-repeated trespasses on the patience of the readers 
of The Cottage Gardener ; when even as years rolled on 
the repose of a “ green old age,” to which so many look forward, 
and so few attain, I might be slightly ruffled by a kindly hint from 
that ever-juvenescent being, “ the Editor,” recommending the em¬ 
ployment of an amanuensis, ostensibly to avoid injuring my sight, 
but really because the increasing infirmities of age had produced 
such a scrawl, as defied the ablest compositor in the office to 
decipher. 
These pleasing day-dreams were, however, soon interrupted by 
* The name of the type in which this note is printed, and a smaller size 
than was used on the occasion alluded to. 
the recollection of the responsibilities of my new position. But 
yesterday I was an obscure individual, indulging my apiarian pre¬ 
dilections solely for my own amusement, and pursuing my experi¬ 
ments with no spectators beyond my own family, and such of my 
immediate friends as might be interested in either my success or 
failure. Now, on the other hand, I had the eyes of the world 
upon me. Not the world in the usual conventional acceptation 
of the phrase, which rarely includes any beyond those in imme¬ 
diate contact with us, but the actual four quarters of the globe,— 
Europe, Asia, Africa, and America,—not forgetting the quasi- 
continent of Australia. Wherever the English language is spoken, 
in whatever latitude the hardy Anglo-Saxon race has established 
itself, there, doubtless, is to be found The Cottage Gardener ; 
and it is the multitudinous readers of this ubiquitous periodical 
whom I have admitted spectators of my apiarian proceedings. A 
chill comes over me, and I tremble as I think of the awful crowd 
of witnesses, and possibly also of severe judges, whom my temerity 
has evoked. 
Yes, there it stands, “Bee-keeping in Devon. —No. I.,” a 
fearful, distinct pledge that future numbers are to follow ! Then 
at once recur, with harrowing distinctness, the terrible details of 
the massacre of yesterday ; and I ask if it bo possible for me to 
present myself at the solemn tribunal of public opinion, a con¬ 
victed destroyer of so many thousands of innocent lives ? Suddenly 
my courage revives, as I reply, I will indeed do so, trusting to 
establish my plea of “ Not Guilty,” by showing that my intention 
was to save life, not to destroy it; that my best efforts were 
directed to this end ; and that every one of the victims must 
otherwise have met with an untimely death in the brimstone pit. 
Taking these circumstances into consideration, I venture to 
indulge a hope, that the “ gentlemen (and ladies) of the jury,” will 
find themselves justified in returning a verdict of “Apicideby 
misadventure.” 
Rallying, therefore, my depressed spirits, and fortifying myself 
by the recollection of the Bruce’s spider, and the example of my 
own especial favourite, the bee, whose indomitable perseverance 
has often excited my admiration, I determined upon making yet 
another eflort to replenish the scanty population of my two shallow 
eight-bar hives, and, at the same time, to secure such a body of 
deprived bees as might enable me to attempt, with a fair prospect 
of success, the experiment of preserving them through the winter. 
In pursuance of this resolution, and at the usual early hour in 
the morning of the 2nd September last, I again found myself a 
passenger on the mail, and speeding towards the village, whence 
two days previously I had procured the ill-starre. vehicle, which, 
by its violent jerks and oscillations, produced the fatal catastrophe 
to which I have adverted. 
During the journey, it occurred to me that this tragical affair 
explained a story, which, when related on good authority some 
years ago, I found some difficulty in believing. It was to the 
effect that on one occasion a swarm of bees, having been rudely 
shaken during their removal to a distance, on the evening of the 
day on which they issued, w r ere completely suffocated by the 
honey they had collected and stored during the few hours they 
had occupied their new domicile. The fact was, doubtless, correct, 
the inference only being erroneous ; the fatal sweets had not all 
been collected and stored during the day, but were mostly the 
contents of the bees’ stomachs, taken by them from the parent 
hive, and which the violent concussions had impelled them to 
eject. 
It will be readily imagined, that the various apiarian operations 
recounted in my former communications must have resulted in 
my becoming acquainted with some bee-keepers in the neighbour¬ 
hood of the heath to which my hives had been removed. Having 
pretty well exliaused the condemned bees in my own locality, 
it occurred to me that I might readily obtain them on the spot; 
and, by so doing, avoid the risk of transporting them to a dis¬ 
tance. Nor was I disappointed. On my arrival, a couple of 
stocks were immediately at my disposal, with a friendly intimation 
that there would probably be little difficidty in procuring as many 
more as I might require. 
Thus far, all promised success, but what was my dismay, on 
untying the parcel supposed to contain the necessary apparatus, 
at finding that I had omitted to include my bee-dress! There 
were, indeed, the cloth and cord for securing the two hives 
together, and a thick pair of woollen gloves for protecting the 
hands; but, unquestionably, there was no bee-dress! 1 stood 
aghast! It was the play of Hamlet with the character of Hamlet 
omitted ! 
Recovering from my consternation, I determined to say nothing 
