To the advanced and skilful apiarian we would especially commend the use of the bar and frame hives. With these, as we have attempted to show, the bee-keeper has a full command over his hives and bees. Many mistakes, it is true, have been made by uninitiated bee-keepers in using the more elaborate hives. Being struck with the remarkable facilities afforded by these superior hives for the extraction of any one comb, and, perhaps, fascinated with their easy sway over so highly-organized a community, these new-fangled bee-keepers have acquired a habit of perpetually and incautiously meddling with the bees. The inevitable results in such cases are, distress to the bees, impoverishment of the stocks, and loss and vexation to the over-zealous apiarian. All these things may be avoided, if it is remembered that there are first steps in bee-keeping, as well as in chemistry, croquet, or cricket. In bee-keeping, as in floriculture, it is a great point to know when to "let well alone." There is no florist, however anxious for a prize, who would be continually pulling up his plants to see how their roots were growing. Doubtless, the full control which the bars and frames afford over the inmost recesses of the hives is a great temptation to the bee-keeper; but if he yields too readily to it, he will imperil his chance of profit and deprive himself of that continuous source of interest which a judicious apiarian always enjoys.
Many persons who are well-informed on most subjects are extraordinarily ignorant of the natural history of bees and the economy of the bee-hive. Perhaps we might venture to suggest that more pains should be taken at schools, or by parents, to inform young persons on this, in connexion with kindred subjects. As an amusing illustration of the ignorance referred to, we transcribe an order we received a short time since from a seminary in the north of England. The young gentleman thus writes:—"Master —— presents his compliments to Messrs. Neighbour, and begs they will send him a swarm of bees; he encloses six postage stamps, and hopes they will send him a good swarm." This embryo naturalist was evidently of a mercantile turn, and had a mind to buy in the cheapest market, for in a postscript he adds:—"Please let it be fourpence, if you can!" We need scarcely say that, in reply, we endeavoured to enlighten our juvenile correspondent as to what constituted a swarm of bees, and returned the stamps, with our thanks.
Much superstition has existed, and, in some quarters, still exists, among the poor respecting bees. If a death occurs in the family of the bee-owner, these superstitious folk consider it needful to make the bees aware of the bereavement by "waking" them; that is, by giving a few raps at the entrance, and audibly announcing the circumstance. If this be not done, "no luck," say they, will come of the bees the following season. Last summer, even near the metropolis, we heard a cottager bemoaning to his neighbour "his bad luck with his bees," when the other replied, "Ah! no wonder; you never 'waked' your bees when your wife died; what can you expect if you omit such needful duty?" In many parts of France, as well as here, it is a custom on such occasions to put the bees into mourning, by placing black crape or some such material round the hives. Bees also receive intelligence when a marriage or a christening takes place: in these cases, the hives are draped with red cloth. In fact, it is considered an essential element of "good luck" to inform the bees of any remarkable circumstance that occurs in the family of the bee-keeper. How would these good people manage with the newly-imported foreign bees, for they can hardly be expected to have learned our "lingo"? This difficulty is, however, not "likely" to be experienced, for it is to be hoped that intelligent bee-keepers do not believe in such nonsense. Fancy a man in this nineteenth century haranguing his bees after the above-mentioned fashion! Mr. Langstroth says that "some superstitious folk in America assert that the bees sometimes take the loss of their master so much to heart as to alight upon the coffin whenever it is exposed." A clergyman told him that he attended a funeral where, as soon as the coffin was brought from the house, the bees gathered on it so much as to excite alarm. Some years after this occurrence, being engaged in varnishing a table, the bees alighted upon it in such numbers as to convince the clergyman that love of the varnish on the outside, rather than any respect for the deceased within, was the occasion of their conduct at the funeral. Mr. Langstroth adds: "How many superstitions, believed even by intelligent persons, might be as easily explained, if it were possible to ascertain as fully all the facts connected with them?" Another infatuation is, that you should on no account part with your bees for silver money—only for gold. This is so far sensible, that it ensures a respectable price. Certain credulous bee-keepers cannot, on any account; be induced to part with their bees for money; they will barter, but not sell,—to sell bees is, in their view, to lay themselves open to evil fortune. If these apprehensions are correct, our punishment will be a severe one, for we have been great offenders in that way, and seem likely to go on sinning.
It is scarcely necessary to add that, with the increase of education, such superstitions and fancies are becoming less and less, and will soon, it is hoped, be ranked amongst the follies of bygone days.
The culture of bees would be greatly promoted if a knowledge of it were considered necessary as one of the regular qualifications of a gardener. So little time is needed to gain the skill requisite for the tendance of an apiary, that it seems only reasonable to expect it of a well-taught gardener, and he should feel a pleasure in the circumstance of its forming a part of his duties. In Germany, where a country gentleman's table is kept constantly supplied with fresh honey, the gardeners are expected to understand the management of hives; and in Bavaria, modern bee-culture is taught in the colleges to all the horticultural students. Travellers in Switzerland will call to mind the almost invariable practice of placing new honey on the breakfast tables at hotels in that country.
Some writers on bee-culture attach much importance to the particular position in which an apiary stands, and the aspect towards which it faces. A southern, or rather a south-eastern aspect, is the one which we have already recommended. Our reason for this preference is, that we deem it very important for the bees to have the first of the morning sun. Bees are early risers, and should have every inducement given them for the maintenance of so excellent a practice. A few years since, many strong opinions were expressed in favour of a northern aspect for hives. The chief reason given for those opinions, though very plausible, appears to us to be a very partial and inadequate one. It was said that, when the hives face the south, the bees may, like the incautious swallow in the fable, be tempted to fly abroad in the transient winter sunshine, and then perish in the freezing atmosphere when a passing cloud intervenes. But it is a very easy matter, if considered needful, to screen the entrance by fixing up matting so as to intercept the rays of the sun. At our own apiary we make no alteration in winter, under the belief that the bees will take care of themselves and that they seldom venture out when the weather is unsuitable.
With hives exposed in the open garden, it is a good practice to wind hay-bands round them in frosty weather, as such a protection enables the bees to resist the cold.
When a thaw occurs, everything, both in and out of doors, has a great deal of dampness about it. The combs of a hive are not exempt from this, so that it is advisable to have slight upward ventilation in winter. Holes the size of a pin's head allow of the escape of a good deal of bad air, which is generated by the exhalations of the bees, as well as by the dampness before referred to. These holes, being small, do not create sufficient draught through the hives to be pernicious; if closed up by propolis, they are readily reopened with a pin. With wooden hives in winter, a bell-glass is often found to be useful; it should be placed over the hole in the crown-board, with a zinc trough to receive the condensed moisture.
In summer, bees do much towards ventilating their own stock-hives. The observant apiarian will not fail to remark how, on a warm day, several of the little creatures will stand at the entrance, with their abdomens sightly raised and their twinkling wings in rapid motion, producing a current of air inwards; while another set are engaged in like manner, driving the bad air out, so that a supply of pure oxygen is conveyed to the crowded inmates. In this fanning operation their wings vibrate with such rapidity, that their shape is as indistinct as are the spokes of a wheel when revolving in rapid centrifugal motion.
This important office entails great physical exertion on the part of the bees, and they relieve each other in detachments.