Listen to the patent right vender and do nothing but shake your head, says the Rural New Yorker, but I don’t approve of that way. My Mother often told me when I was little that I would learn to butt if I shook my head so much. I will tell you how I served an “Agent,” of some kind. I was in my Apiary working with my bees, and he laid his satchel on a hive that was near, and while he bothered me, he still kept knocking the hive with his satchel. The bees began to get cross, but he didn’t think you know. Pretty soon the bees came out and “went for him” lively, he began to dodge and slap, but he soon grabbed his satchel and began to “beat a retreat,” slapping and cracking his head with the satchel and spoiling his fine hat all to pieces, he “hollered” back he had enough of the bee business and left. It was laughable to see him “light out.”
V. McBride, [page 11, Jan. No.] says that during the winter of the malady, all the bees in Langstroth hives died, and two-thirds in others etc. I saw bees in all kinds of hives that died, some in box hives from one foot to five feet high and some in some old washing machines turned up side down, others in the gable end of a house, some in the old straw hives and all kinds of patent hives, and by the way they died in all kinds, about the same. Some had the patent hives and lost their bees and then blamed the patent hive, but I found it was their fault oftentimes, as it makes it a little handier for them to divide their bees and to take their honey. They think the patent hive ought to make honey without bees almost. I guess the “king” don’t manage right some how as some of those old farmers call them; don’t you think Mr. Root, that it is the King’s fault that the bees die?
D. H. Ogden, Wooster, O.
We guess it must be the King friend O., for we feel sure the Queen is not to blame. Our very best colony in 1873, dwindled down to the weakest in the spring of ’74. They went down to a mere handful, swarmed out twice, and it was only by giving them hatching brood several times that we could barely get the Queen through until July, and then she proved herself fully equal to what she had been the season before; in fact she kept putting two or more eggs in a cell all through the spring months. It is only the workers that die off as soon as brood rearing commences. The very same process is now going on in our forcing house (Feb. 5th.) yet the brood will get ahead we think. Keeping the sick bees warm in the lamp nursery revives them some but they soon die nevertheless. The idea advanced that it is a kind of fly that kills the bees, can certainly have nothing to do with our losses.
NOW FOR THE HOT-BED.
Jan. 22nd, we let the sun in to the pit and at 2 P. M. there was a perfect jollification, just like a lot of young bees playing in summer. And they did “spot” things inside the pit at a great rate, showing they needed a fly. As soon as it began to cool down they all went in to the hives except some dead ones on the straw, no more than would have been found if they had flown the natural way, and about two-thirds of a tea-cupful which were stuck on the sash in groups from one to a dozen. These latter we brushed out on a dust pan and put in top of one of the hives, as they were still alive, and said hive was mighty “sassy” too; seemed strong in bees, plenty of honey, and combs dry. The pit was not dug till after the ground was frozen 8 inches deep, consequently there was considerable frost on the glass which we swept off as soon as the sun loosened it a little. The dampness inside the pit was soon dried and everything went lovely.
We were going to hoist our hat for the hot-bed, but guess we’ll wait till spring before we shout too loud.
Don’t forget the “Medley” for we want to see Katie Grimm, Mr. Grimm, and all the rest.