MANUAL
OF
THE APIARY,

BY

A. J. COOK,
Professor of Entomology
IN THE
MICHIGAN STATE AGRICULTURAL COLLEGE.

FOURTH EDITION,
REVISED, ENLARGED, MOSTLY RE-WRITTEN AND
BEAUTIFULLY ILLUSTRATED.

SIXTH THOUSAND.

CHICAGO, ILLS.:
THOMAS G. NEWMAN & SON
1879.

Entered according to Act of Congress, in the year 1878, by
THOMAS G. NEWMAN & SON,
In the Office of the Librarian of Congress, at Washington, D. C.

TO THE
REVEREND L. L. LANGSTROTH,
THE
INVENTOR OF THE MOVABLE FRAME HIVE,
THE
HUBER OF AMERICA, AND THE GREATEST MASTER OF
PURE AND APPLIED SCIENCE, AS RELATING TO
APICULTURE, IN THE WORLD; THIS MANUAL
IS GRATEFULLY DEDICATED
BY
THE AUTHOR.

PREFACE TO FIRST EDITION.

THE APIARY.

Why another treatise on this subject? Have we not Langstroth, and Quinby, and King, and Bevan, and Hunter? Yes; all of these. Each of which has done excellent service in promoting an important industry. Each of which possesses peculiar and striking excellences. Yet none of these combine all of the qualities desirable in a popular manual. Hence, the excuse for another claimant for public favor. Every cultured apiarist laments that there is no text-book which possesses all of the following very desirable characters: Simple style, full in its discussions, cheap, disinterested, up with the times. It is for the bee-keeping public to decide whether this treatise meets any more fully the demands made by the latest discoveries and improvements, by the wants of those eager to learn, and by the superior intelligence which is now enlisted in the interests of the Apiary.

The following is, in substance, the same as the course of lectures which I have given each year to the students of the Michigan Agricultural College, and their desire, as expressed in repeated requests, has led to this publication.

It will be my desire to consider subjects of merely scientific interest and value, as fully as scientific students can reasonably desire; and, that such discussions may not confuse or perplex those who only read or study with practical ends in view, a very full index is added, so that the whereabouts of any topic, either of practical or scientific value, can be easily ascertained.

In considering the various subjects of interest to the bee-keeper, I am greatly indebted to the authors mentioned above, and also to the following journals, all worthy of high commendation: Gleanings in Bee Culture, American Bee Journal, Bee-Keepers' Magazine, and Bee World.

The illustrations for this manual were nearly all drawn by the author from the natural object.

PREFACE TO SECOND EDITION.

I little thought when I sent out, less than two years ago, the first edition—3,000 copies—of my little, unpretending, "Manual of the Apiary," that more than 2,000 copies would be sold in less than one year, and that in less than two years a second edition would be demanded by the apiarists of our country.

The very kindly reviews and flattering notices by apiarian, scientific, and other journals, both American and foreign, and the approval, as expressed by numerous friendly letters, of our most eminent apiarists, as also the "unprecedented sale of this little work," have not only been very gratifying, but also assure me that I was quite right in the opinion that the time was ripe for some such treatise.

At the urgent request of many apiarian friends, in response to the oft-repeated desire of my many students, some of whom are becoming leading apiculturists in our country, and at the suggestion of many noted apiarists with whom I have no personal acquaintance, I now send forth this second edition, greatly enlarged, mostly re-written, even more fully illustrated, and containing the latest scientific discoveries, and most recent improvements in methods of apiarian management and bee-keeping apparatus.

It is impossible for me to state how greatly I am indebted to our excellent American bee periodicals, and enterprising and intelligent apiarists, for many—yea, for most—of the valuable thoughts and suggestions which may be found in the following pages. I am tempted to mention names of those whose aid and favors have been especially useful, but find the list so large that I must, perforce, forego the privilege, and only refer to such persons in the text.

With the hope that this second edition may reach even more who desire instruction in this pleasing art, and that it may still further advance the interests of scientific apiculture. I send it forth to all those who wish to study more deeply into the mysteries of insect life, or to gain further knowledge of one of the most fascinating as well as profitable of arts.

I make no apology for inserting so much of science in the following pages. From the letters of inquiry which I am constantly receiving, especially from apiarists, I am convinced that the people are mentally hungry for just such food. To satisfy and stimulate just such appetites is, I am sure, very desirable.

I recommend nothing in this treatise that I have not proved valuable by actual trial, unless I mention some eminent person as advising it; nor do I announce any fact or scientific truth that I have not verified, except as I give it on the authority of some competent person.

For most of the figures of the second edition lam indebted to one of my pupils, Mr. W. L. Holdsworth, whose skill as an artist needs no praise.

Appended to this volume is a very full index which will be a great aid to the student.

CONTENTS.

INTRODUCTION.

PART I.

Natural History of the Honey Bee.

CHAPTER I.

CHAPTER II.

CHAPTER III.

CHAPTER IV.

Part II.

INTRODUCTION.

CHAPTER V.

CHAPTER VI.

CHAPTER VII.

CHAPTER VIII.

CHAPTER IX.

CHAPTER X.

CHAPTER XI.

CHAPTER XII.

CHAPTER XIII.

CHAPTER XIV.

CHAPTER XV.

CHAPTER XVI.

CHAPTER XVII.

CHAPTER XVIII.

CHAPTER XIX.

CHAPTER XX.

ILLUSTRATIONS.

INTRODUCTION.
WHO MAY KEEP BEES.

SPECIALISTS.

Any person who is cautious, observing, and prompt to do whatever the needs of his business require, with no thought of delay, may make apiculture a specialty, with almost certain prospects of success. He must also be willing to work with Spartan energy during the busy season, and must persist, though sore discouragement, and even dire misfortune, essay to thwart his plans and rob him of his coveted gains. As in all other vocations, such are the men who succeed in apiculture. I make no mention of capital to begin with, or territory on which to locate; for men of true metal—men whose energy of mind and body bespeak success in advance—will solve these questions long before their experience and knowledge warrant their assuming the charge of large apiaries.

AMATEURS.

Apiculture, as an avocation, may be safely recommended to those of any business or profession, who possess the above named qualities, and control a little space for their bees, a few rods from street and neighbor, or a flat roof whereupon hives may securely rest (C. F. Muth, of Cincinnati, keeps his bees very successfully on the top of his store, in the very heart of a large city), and who are able to devote a little time, when required, to care for their bees. The amount of time will of course vary with the number of colonies kept, but with proper management this time may be granted at any period of the day or week, and thus not interfere with the regular business. Thus residents of country, village, or city, male or female, who may wish to be associated with and study natural objects, and add to their income and pleasure, will find here, an ever-waiting opportunity. To the ladies, shut out from fresh air and sunshine, till pallor and languor point sadly to departing health, and vigor, and to men the nature of whose business precludes air and exercise, apiculture cannot be too highly recommended as an avocation.

WHO ARE SPECIALLY INTERDICTED.

There are a few people, whose systems seem to be specially susceptible to the poison intruded with the bee's sting. Sometimes such persons, if even stung on the foot, will be so thoroughly poisoned that their eyes will swell so they cannot see, and will suffer with fever for days, and, very rarely, individuals are so sensitive to this poison that a bee-sting proves fatal. I hardly need say, that such people should never keep bees. Many persons, among whom were the noted Kleine and Gunther, are at first very susceptible to the poison, but spurred on by their enthusiasm, they persist, and soon become so inoculated that they experience no serious injury from the stings. It is a well-recognized fact, that each successive sting is less powerful to work harm. Every bee-keeper is almost sure to receive an occasional sting, though with the experienced these are very rare, and the occasion neither of fear nor anxiety.

INDUCEMENTS TO BEE-KEEPING.

RECREATION.

Among the attractive features of apiculture, I mention the pleasure which it offers its votaries. There is a fascination about the apiary which is indescribable. Nature is always presenting the most pleasurable surprises to those on the alert to receive them. And among the insect hosts, especially bees, the instincts and habits are so inexplicable and marvelous, that the student of this department of nature never ceases to meet with exhibitions that move him, no less with wonder than with admiration. Thus, bee-keeping affords most wholesome recreation, especially to any who love to look in upon the book of nature, and study the marvelous pages she is ever waiting to present. To such, the very fascination of their pursuit is of itself a rich reward for the time and labor expended. I doubt if there is any other class of manual laborers who engage in their business, and dwell upon it, with the same fondness as do bee-keepers. Indeed, to meet a scientific bee-keeper is to meet an enthusiast. A thorough study of the wonderful economy of the hive must, from its very nature, go hand-in-hand with delight and admiration. I once asked an extensive apiarist, who was also a farmer, why he kept bees. The answer was characteristic: "Even if I could not make a good deal the most money with my bees, I should still keep them for the real pleasure they bring me." But yesterday I asked the same question of Prof. Daniels, President of the Grand Rapids schools, whose official duties are very severe. Said he: "For the restful pleasure which I receive in their management." I am very sure, that were there no other inducement than that of pleasure, I should be slow to part with these models of industry, whose marvelous instincts and wondrous life-habits are ever ministering to my delight and astonishment.

A year ago, I received a visit from my old friend and College classmate, O. Clute, of Keokuk, Iowa. Of course I took him to see our apiary, and as we looked at the bees and their handiwork, just as the nectar from golden-rod and asters was flooding the honey-cells; he became enraptured, took my little "Manual of the Apiary" home with him, and at once subscribed for the old American Bee Journal. He very soon purchased several colonies of bees, and has found so much of pleasure and recreation in the duties imposed by his new charge, that he has written me several times, expressing gratitude that I had led him into such a work of love and pleasure.

PROFITS.

The profits, too, of apiculture, urge its adoption as a pursuit. When we consider the comparatively small amount of capital invested, the relatively small amount of labor and expense attending its operations, we are surprised at the abundant reward that is sure to wait upon its intelligent practice. I do not wish to be understood here as claiming that labor—yes, real hard, back-aching labor—is not required in the apiary. The specialist, with his hundred or more colonies, will have, at certain seasons, right hard and vigorous work. Yet this will be both pleasant and Healthful, and will go hand-in-hand with thought, so that brain and muscle will work together. Yet this time of hard, physical labor will only continue for five or six months, and for the balance of the year the apiarist has or may have comparative leisure. Nor do I think that all will succeed. The fickle, careless, indolent, heedless man, will as surely fail in apiculture, as in any other calling. But I repeat, in the light of many years of experience, where accurate weight, measure, and counting of change has given no heed to conjecture, that there is no manual labor pursuit, where the returns are so large, when compared with the labor and expense.

An intelligent apiarist may invest in bees any spring in Michigan, with the absolute certainty of more than doubling his investment the first season; while a net gain of 400 per cent, brings no surprise to the experienced apiarists of our State. This of course applies only to a limited number of colonies. Nor is Michigan superior to other States as a location for the apiarist. During the past season, the poorest I ever knew, our fifteen colonies of bees in the College apiary, have netted us over $200. In 1876, each colony gave a net return of $24.04, while in 1875, our bees gave a profit, above all expense, of over 400 per cent, of their entire value in the spring. Mr. Fisk Bangs, who graduated at our College one year since, purchased last spring seven colonies of bees. The proceeds of these seven colonies have more than paid all expenses, including first cost of bees, in honey sold, while there are now sixteen colonies, as clear gain, if we do not count the labor, and we hardly need do so, as it has in no wise interfered with the regular duties of the owner. Several farmers of our State who possess good apiaries and good improved farms, have told me that their apiaries were more profitable than all the remainder of their farms. Who will doubt the profits of apiculture in the face of friend Doolittle's experience? He has realized $6,000, in five years, simply from the honey taken from fifty colonies. This $6,000 is in excess of all expenses except his own time. Add to this the increase of stocks, and then remember that one man can easily care for 100 colonies, and we have a graphic picture of apiarian profits. Bee-keeping made Adam Grimm a wealthy man. It brought to Capt. Hetherington over $10,000 as the cash receipts of a single year's honey-crop. It enabled Mr. Harbison, so it is reported, to ship from his own apiary, eleven car-loads of comb-honey as the product of a single season. What greater recommendation has any pursuit? Opportunity for money-making, even with hardships and privations, is attractive and seldom disregarded; such opportunity with labor that brings, in itself, constant delight, is surely worthy of attention.

EXCELLENCE AS AN AMATEUR PURSUIT.

Again, there is no business, and I speak from experience, that serves so well as an avocation. It offers additional funds to the poorly paid, out-door air to the clerk and office-hand, healthful exercise to the person of sedentary habits, and superb recreation to the student or professional man, and especially to him whose life-work is of that dull, hum-drum, routine order that seems to rob life of all zest. The labor, too, required in keeping bees, can, with a little thought and management, be so planned, if but few colonies are kept, as not to infringe upon the time demanded by the regular occupation. Indeed, I have never been more heartily thanked, than by such parsons as named above, and that, too, because I called them to consider—which usually means to adopt—the pleasing duties of the apiary.

ADAPTATION TO WOMEN.

Apiculture may also bring succor to those whom society has not been over-ready to favor—our women. Widowed mothers, dependent girls, the weak and the feeble, all may find a blessing in the easy, pleasant, and profitable labors of the apiary. Of course, women who lack vigor and health, can care for but very few colonies, and must have sufficient strength to bend over and lift the small-sized frames of comb when loaded with honey, and to carry empty hives. With the proper thought and management, full colonies need never be lifted, nor work done in the hot sunshine. Yet right here let me add, and emphasize the truth, that only those who will let energetic thought and skillful plan, and above all promptitude and persistence, make up for physical weakness, should enlist as apiarists. Usually a stronger body, and improved health, the results of pure air, sunshine, and exercise, will make each successive day's labor more easy, and will permit a corresponding growth in the size of the apiary for each successive season. One of the most noted apiarists, not only in America but in the world, sought in bee-keeping her lost health, and found not only health, but reputation and influence. Some of the most successful apiarists in our country are women. Of these, many were led to adopt the pursuit because of waning health, grasping at this as the last and successful weapon with which to vanquish the grim monster. Said "Cyula Linswik"—whose excellent and beautifully written articles have so often charmed the readers of the bee publications, and who has had five years of successful experience as an apiarist—in a paper read before our Michigan Convention of March, 1877: "I would gladly purchase exemption from in-door work, on washing-day, by two days' labor among the bees, and I find two hours' labor at the ironing-table more fatiguing than two hours of the severest toil the apiary can exact. * * * I repeat, that apiculture offers to many women not only pleasure but profit. * * * Though the care of a few colonies means only recreation, the woman who experiments in bee-keeping somewhat extensively, will find that it means, at some seasons, genuine hard work. * * * There is risk in the business, I would not have you ignore this fact, but an experience of five years has led me to believe that the risk is less than is generally supposed." Mrs. L. B. Baker, of Lansing, Michigan, who has kept bees very successfully for four years, read an admirable paper before the same Convention, in which she said: "But I can say, having tried both," (keeping boarding-house and apiculture,) "I give bee-keeping the preference, as more profitable, healthful, independent and enjoyable. * * * I find the labors of the apiary more endurable than working over a cook-stove in-doors, and more pleasant and conducive to health. * * * I believe that many of our delicate and invalid ladies would find renewed vigor of body and mind in the labors and recreations of the apiary. * * * By beginning in the early spring, when the weather was cool and the work light, I became gradually accustomed to out-door labor, and by mid-summer found myself as well able to endure the heat of the sun as my husband, who has been accustomed to it all his life. Previously, to attend an open-air picnic was to return with a head-ache. * * * My own experience in the apiary has been a source of interest and enjoyment far exceeding my anticipations." Although Mrs. Baker commenced with but two colonies of bees, her net profits the first season were over $100; the second year but a few cents less than $300; and the third year about $250. "The proof of the pudding is in the eating;" so, too, such words as given above, show that apiculture offers special inducements to our sisters to become either amateur or professional apiarists.

IMPROVES THE MIND AND THE OBSERVATION.

Successful apiculture demands close and accurate observation, and hard, continuous thought and study, and this, too, in the wondrous realm of nature. In all this, the apiarist receives manifold and substantial advantages. In the cultivation of the habit of observation, a person becomes constantly more able, useful and susceptible to pleasure, results which also follow as surely on the habit of thought and study. It is hardly conceivable that the wide-awake apiarist, who is so frequently busy with his wonder-working comrades of the hive, can ever be lonely, or feel time hanging heavily on his hands. The mind is occupied, and there is no chance for ennui. The whole tendency, too, of such thought and study, where nature is the subject, is to refine the taste, elevate the desires, and ennoble manhood. Once get our youth, with their susceptible natures, engaged in such wholesome study, and we shall have less reason to fear the vicious tendencies of the street, or the luring vices and damning influences of the saloon. Thus apiculture spreads an intellectual feast, that even the old philosophers would have coveted; furnishes the rarest food for the observing faculties, and, best of all, by keeping its votaries face to face with the matchless creations of the All Father, must draw them toward Him "who went about doing good," and in "whom there was no guile."

YIELDS DELICIOUS FOOD.

A last inducement to apiculture, certainly not unworthy of mention, is the offerings it brings to our tables. Health, yea, our very lives, demand that we should eat sweets. It is a truth that our sugars, and especially our commercial syrups, are so adulterated as to be often poisonous. The apiary, in lieu of these, gives us one of the most delicious and wholesome of sweets, which has received merited praise, as food fit for the gods, from the most ancient time till the present day. To ever have within reach the beautiful, immaculate comb, or the equally grateful nectar, right from the extractor, is certainly a blessing of no mean order. We may thus supply our families and friends with a most necessary and desirable food element, and this with no cloud of fear from vile, poisonous adulterations.

WHAT SUCCESSFUL BEE-KEEPING REQUIRES.

MENTAL EFFORT.

No one should commence this business who is not willing to read, think and study. To be sure, the ignorant and unthinking may stumble on success for a time, but sooner or later, failure will set her seal upon their efforts. Those of our apiarists who have studied the hardest, observed the closest, and thought the deepest, have even passed the late terrible winters with but slight loss.

Of course the novice will ask. How and what shall I study?

EXPERIENCE NECESSARY.

Nothing will take the place of real experience. Commence with a few colonies, even one or two is best, and make the bees your companions at every possible opportunity. Note every change, whether of the bees, their development, or work, and then by earnest thought strive to divine the cause.

LEARN FROM OTHERS.

Great good will also come from visiting other apiarists. Note their methods and apiarian apparatus. Strive by conversation to gain new and valuable ideas, and gratefully adopt whatever is found, by comparison, to be an improvement upon your own past system and practice.

AID FROM CONVENTIONS.

Attend conventions whenever distance and means render this possible. Here you will not only be made better by social intercourse with those whose occupation and study make them sympathetic and congenial, but you will find a real conservatory of scientific truths, valuable hints, and improved instruments and methods. And the apt attention—rendered possible by your own experience—which you will give to essays, discussions and private conversations, will so enrich your mind, that you will return to your home encouraged, and able to do better work, and to achieve higher success. I have attended nearly all the meetings of the Michigan Convention, and never yet when I was not well paid for all trouble and expense by the many, often very valuable, suggestions which I received. These I would carry home, and test as commanded by the Apostle: "Prove all things and hold fast that which is good."

AID FROM BEE PUBLICATIONS.

Every apiarist, too, should take and read at least one of the three excellent bee publications that are issued in our country. It has been suggested that Francis Huber's blindness was an advantage to him, as he thus had the assistance of two pairs of eyes, his wife's and servant's, instead of one. So, too, of the apiarist who reads the bee publications. He has the aid of the eyes, and the brains, too, of hundreds of intelligent and observing bee-keepers. Who is it that squanders his money on worse than useless patents and fixtures? He who "cannot afford" to take a bee-journal.

It would be invidious and uncalled for to recommend any one of these valuable papers to the exclusion of the others. Each has its peculiar excellences, and all who can, may well secure all of them to aid and direct their ways.

AMERICAN BEE JOURNAL.

This, the oldest bee publication, is not only peculiar for its age, but for the ability with which it has been managed, with scarce any exception, even from its first appearance. Samuel Wagner, its founder and long its editor, had few superiors in breadth of culture, strength of judgment, and practical and historic knowledge of apiculture. With what pleasure we remember the elegant, really classic, diction of the editorials, the dignified bearing, and freedom from asperities which marked the old American Bee Journal as it made its monthly visits fresh from the editorial supervision of Mr. Samuel Wagner. Some one has said that there is something in the very atmosphere of a scholarly gentleman, that impresses all who approach him. I have often thought, as memory reverted to the old American Bee Journal, or as I have re-read the numbers which bear the impress of Mr. Wagner's superior learning, that, though the man is gone, the stamp of his noble character and classical culture is still on these pages, aiding, instructing, elevating, all who are so fortunate as to possess the early volumes of this periodical. I am also happy to state that the American Bee Journal is again in good hands, and that its old prestige is fully restored. Mr. Newman is an experienced editor, a man of excellent judgment and admirable balance, a man who demonstrates his dislike of criminations and recriminations by avoiding them; who has no special inventions or pet theories to push, and is thus almost sure to be disinterested and unbiased in the advice he offers who lends his aid and favor to our Conventions, which do so much to spread apiarian knowledge. And when I add, that he brings to his editorial aid the most able, experienced and educated apiarists of the world, I surely have spoken high but just praise, of the American Bee Journal, whose enviable reputation extends even to distant lands. It is edited by Thomas G. Newman, at Chicago. Price, $2.00 a year.

GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE.

This periodical makes up for its brief history of only five years, by the vigor and energy which has characterized it from the first. Its editor is an active apiarist, who is constantly experimenting; a terse, able writer, and brimming-full of good nature and enthusiasm. I am free to say, that in practical apiculture I am more indebted to Mr. Root than to any other one person, except Rev. L. L. Langstroth. I also think that, with few exceptions, he has done more for the recent advancement of practical apiculture than any other person in our country. Yet I have often regretted that Mr. Root is so inimical to conventions, and that he often so stoutly praises that with which he has had so brief an experience, and must consequently know so little. This trait makes it imperative that the apiarist read discriminately, and then decide for himself. In case of an innovation, wait for Mr. Root's continued approval, else prove its value before general adoption. This sprightly little journal is edited by A. I. Root, Medina, Ohio. Price, $1.00 a year.

BEE-KEEPER'S MAGAZINE.

I have read this periodical less, and, of course know less of it than of the others. It is well edited, and certainly has many very able contributors. Both Mr. King and Mr. Root deal largely in their own wares, and, of course, give space to their advertisement, yet, in all my dealings with them, and I have dealt largely with Mr. Root, I have ever found them prompt and reliable. The Magazine is edited by A. J. King, New York. Price, $1.50 a year.

BOOKS FOR THE APIARIST.

Having read very many of the books treating of apiculture, both American and foreign, I can freely recommend such a course to others. Each book has peculiar excellences, and each one may be read with interest and profit.

LANGSTROTH ON THE HONEY BEE.

Of course, this treatise will ever remain a classic in bee-literature. I cannot over-estimate the benefits which I have received from the study of its pages. It was a high, but deserved encomium, which J. Hunter, of England, in his "Manual of Bee-Keeping," paid to this work: "It is unquestionably the best bee-book in the English language."

The style of this work is so admirable, the subject matter so replete with interest, and the entire book so entertaining, that it is a desirable addition to any library, and no thoughtful, studious apiarist can well be without it. It is especially happy in detailing the methods of experimentation, and in showing with what caution the true scientist establishes principles or deduces conclusions. The work is wonderfully free from errors, and had the science and practice of apiculture remained stationary, there would have been little need of another work; but as some of the most important improvements in apiculture are not mentioned, the book alone would be a very unsatisfactory guide to the apiarist of to-day. Price, $2.00.

QUINBY'S MYSTERIES OF BEE-KEEPING.

This is a plain, sensible treatise, written by one of America's most successful bee-keepers. It proceeds, I think, on a wrong basis in supposing that those who read bee-books will use the old box-hives, especially as the author is constantly inferring that other hives are better. It contains many valuable truths, and when first written was a valuable auxiliary to the bee-keeper. I understand that the work has been revised by Mr. L. C. Root. Price, $1.50.

KING'S TEXT-BOOK.

This is a compilation of the above works, and has recently been revised, so that it is abreast of the times. It is to be regretted that the publisher did not take more pains with his work, as the typography is very poor. The price is $1.00.

A B C OF BEE-CULTURE.

This work was issued in numbers, but is now complete. It is arranged in the convenient form of our cyclopædias, is printed in fine style, on beautiful paper, and is to be well illustrated. I need hardly say that the style is pleasing and vigorous. The subject matter will, of course, be fresh, embodying the most recent discoveries and inventions pertaining to bee-keeping. That it may be kept abreast of apiarian progress, the type is to be kept in position, so that each new discovery may be added as soon as made. The price is $1.00.

FOREIGN WORKS.

Bevan, revised by Munn, is exceedingly interesting, and shows by its able historical chapters, admirable scientific disquisitions, and frequent quotations and references to practical and scientific writers on bees and bee-keeping, both ancient and modern, that the writers were men of extensive reading and great scientific ability. The book is of no practical value to us, but to the student it will be read with great interest. Next to Langstroth, I value this work most highly of any in my library that treat of bees and bee-keeping, if I may except back volumes of the bee-publications.

"The Apiary, or Bees, Bee-Hives and Bee Culture," by Alfred Neighbour, London, is a fresh, sprightly little work, and as the third edition has just appeared, is, of course, up with the times. The book is in nice dress, concise, and very readable, and I am glad to commend it.

A less interesting work, though by no means without merit, is the "Manual of Bee-Keeping," by John Hunter, London. This is also recent. I think these works would be received with little favor among American apiarists. They are exponents of English apiculture, which in method would seem clumsy to Americans. In fact, I think I may say that in implements and perhaps I may add methods, the English, French, Germans and Italians, are behind our American apiarists, and hence their text-books and journals compare illy with ours. I believe the many intelligent foreign apiarists who have come to this country and are now honored members of our own fraternity, will sustain this position. Foreign scientists are ahead of American, but we glean and utilize their facts and discoveries as soon as made known. Salicylic acid is discovered by a German to be a remedy for foul brood, yet ten times as many American as foreign apiarists know of this and practice by the knowledge. In practical fields, on the other hand, as also in skill and delicacy of invention, we are, I think, in advance. So our apiarists have little need to go abroad for either books or papers.

PROMPTITUDE.

Another absolute requirement of successful bee-keeping, is prompt attention to all its varied duties. Neglect is the rock on which many bee-keepers, especially farmers, find too often that they have wrecked their success. I have no doubt that more colonies die from starvation, than from all the bee maladies known to the bee-keeper. And why is this? Neglect is the apicide. I feel sure that the loss each season by absconding colonies is almost incalculable, and whom must we blame? Neglect. The loss every summer by enforced idleness of queen and workers, just because room is denied them, is very great. Who is the guilty party? Plainly, neglect. In these and in a hundred other ways, indifference to the needs of the bees, which require but a few moments, greatly lessen the profits of apiculture. If we would be successful, promptitude must be our motto. Each colony of bees requires but very little care and attention. Our every interest demands that this be not denied, nor even granted grudgingly. The very fact that this attention is slight, renders it more liable to be neglected; but this neglect always involves loss—often disaster.

ENTHUSIASM.

Enthusiasm, or an ardent love of its duties is very desirable, if not an absolute requisite, to successful apiculture. To be sure, this is a quality whose growth, with even slight opportunity, is almost sure. It only demands perseverance. The beginner, without either experience or knowledge, may meet with discouragements—unquestionably will. Swarms will be lost, colonies will fail to winter, the young apiarist will become nervous, which fact will be noted by the bees with great disfavor, and if opportunity permits, will meet reproof more sharp than pleasant. Yet, with persistence, all these difficulties quickly vanish. Every contingency will be foreseen and provided against, and the myriad of little workers will become as manageable and may be fondled as safely as a pet dog or cat, and the apiarist will minister to their needs with the same fearlessness and self-possession that he does to his gentlest cow or favorite horse. Persistence in the face of all those discouragements which are so sure to confront inexperience, will surely triumph. In-sooth, he who appreciates the beautiful and marvelous, will soon grow to love his companions of the hive, and the labor attendant upon their care and management. Nor will this love abate till it has kindled into enthusiasm.

True, there may be successful apiarists who are impelled by no warmth of feeling, whose superior intelligence, system and promptitude, stand in lieu of and make amends for absence of enthusiasm. Yet I believe such are rare, and certainly they work at great disadvantage.

PART FIRST.

NATURAL HISTORY
OF
THE HONEY BEE.

NATURAL HISTORY OF THE HONEY-BEE.

CHAPTER I.
THE BEE'S PLACE IN THE ANIMAL KINGDOM.

It is estimated by Heer and other eminent naturalists, that there are more than 250,000 species of living animals. It will be both interesting and profitable to look in upon this vast host, that we may know the position and relationship of the bee to all this mighty concourse of life.

BRANCH OF THE HONEY-BEE.

The great French naturalist, Cuvier, a friend of Napoleon I., grouped all animals which exhibit a ring structure into one branch, appropriately named Articulates, as this term indicates the jointed or articulated structure which so obviously characterizes most of the members of this group.

The terms joint and articulation, as used here, have a technical meaning. They refer not only to the hinge or place of union of two parts, but also to the parts themselves. Thus, the parts of an insect's legs, as well as the surfaces of union, are styled joints or articulations. All apiarists who have examined carefully the structure of a bee, will at once pronounce it an Articulate. Not only is its body, even from head to sting, composed of joints, but by close inspection we find the legs, the antennæ, and even the mouth-parts, likewise, jointed.

In this branch, too, we place the Crustacea—which includes the rollicking cray-fish or lobster, so indifferent as to whether he moves forward, backward or sidewise, the shorter crab, the sow-bug, lively and plump, even in its dark, damp home under old boards, etc., and the barnacles, which fasten to the bottom of ships, so that vessels are often freighted with life within and without.

The worms, too, are Articulates, though in some of these, as the leech, the joints are very obscure. The bee, then, which gives us food, is related to the dreaded tape-worm with its hundred of joints, which, mayhaps, robs us of the same food after we have eaten it, and the terrible pork-worm or trichina, which may consume the very muscles we have developed in caring for our pets of the apiary.

The body-rings of Articulates form a skeleton, firm as in the bee and lobster, or more or less soft as in the worms. This skeleton, unlike that of Vertebrates or back-bone animals, to which we belong, is outside, and thus serves to protect the inner, softer parts, as well as to give them attachment, and to give strength and solidity to the animal.

This ring-structure, so beautifully marked in our golden-banded Italians, usually makes it easy to separate, at sight, animals of this branch from the Vertebrates, with their usually bony skeleton; from the less active Molluscan branch, with their soft, sack-like bodies, familiar to us in the snail, the clam, the oyster, and the wonderful cuttle-fish—the devil-fish of Victor Hugo—with its long, clammy arms, strange ink-bag and often prodigious size; from the Radiate branch, with its elegant star-fish, delicate but gaudy jelly fish, and coral animals, the tiny architects of islands and even continents and from the lowest, simplest. Protozoan branch, which includes animals so minute that we owe our very knowledge of them to the microscope, so simple that they have been regarded as the apron-strings which tie plants to animals.

Fig. 1.

THE CLASS OF THE HONEY-BEE.

Our subject belongs to the class Insecta, which is mainly characterized by breathing air usually through a very complicated system of air-tubes. These tubes ([Fig, 1]), which are constantly branching, and almost infinite in number, are very peculiar in their structure. They are formed of a spiral thread, and thus resemble a hollow cylinder formed by closely winding a fine wire spirally about a pipe-stem, so as to cover it, and then withdrawing the latter, leaving the wire unmoved. Nothing is more surprising and interesting, than this labyrinth of beautiful tubes, as seen in dissecting a bee under the microscope. I have frequently detected myself taking long pauses, in making dissections of the honey-bee, as my attention would be fixed in admiration of this beautiful breathing apparatus. In the bee these tubes expand into large lung-like sacks ([Fig, 2, f]), one each side of the body.

Fig. 2.

Doubtless some of my readers have associated the quick movements and surprising activity of birds and most mammals with their well-developed lungs, so, too, in such animals as the bees, we see the relation between this intricate system of air-tubes—their lungs—and the quick, busy life which has been proverbial of them since the earliest time. The class Insecta also includes the spiders, scorpions, with their caudal sting so venomous, and mites, which have in lieu of the tubes, lung-like sacks, and the myriapods, or thousand-legged worms—those dreadful creatures, whose bite, in case of the tropical centipedes or flat species, have a well-earned reputation of being poisonous and deadly.

The class Insecta does not include the water-breathing Crustacea, with their branchiæ or gills, nor the worms, which have 110 lungs or gills but their skin, if we except some marine forms, which have simple dermal appendages, which, answer to branchiæ.

ORDER OF THE HONEY-BEE.

The honey-bee belongs to the order Hexapods, or true Insects. The first term is appropriate, as all have in the imago or last stage, six legs. Nor is the second term less applicable, as the word insect comes from the Latin and means to cut in, and in no other articulates does the ring structure appear 80 marked upon merely a superficial examination. More than this, the true insects when fully developed have, unlike all other articulates, three well-marked divisions of the body ([Fig, 2]), namely: the head ([Fig, 2, a]), which contains the antennæ ([Fig. 2, d]), the horn-like appendages common to all insects; eyes ([Fig. 2, e]) and mouth organs; the thorax ([Fig. 2, b]), which bears the legs ([Fig. 2, g]), and wings, when they are present; and lastly, the abdomen ([Fig. 2, c]), which, though usually memberless, contains the ovipositor, and when present, the sting. Insects, too, undergo a more striking metamorphosis than do most animals. When first hatched they are worm-like and called larvæ ([Fig, 12]), which means masked; afterward they are frequently quiescent, and would hardly be supposed to be animals at all. They are then known as pupæ, or as in case of bees as nymphs ([Fig, 13]). At last there comes forth the imago with compound eyes, antennæ and wings. In some insects the transformations are said to be incomplete, that is the larva, pupa and imago differ little except in size, and that the latter possesses wings. We see in our bugs, lice, locusts and grasshoppers, illustrations of insects with incomplete transformations. In such cases there is a marked resemblance from the egg to the adult.

As will be seen by the above description the spiders, which have only two divisions to their bodies, only simple eyes, no antennæ, eight legs, and no transformations (if we except the partial transformations of the mites), as also the myriapods, which have no marked divisions of the body, and no compound eyes—which are always present in the mature insect—many legs and no transformations, do not belong to the order Insects.

SUB-ORDER OF THE HONEY BEE.

The honey bee belongs to the sub-order Hymenoptera (from two Greek words meaning membrane and wings), which also includes the wasps, ants, ichneumon-flies and saw-flies. This group contains insects which possess a tongue by which they may suck ([Fig, 20, a]), and strong jaws ([Fig, 21]) for biting. Thus the bees can sip the honeyed sweets of flowers, and also gnaw away mutilated comb. They have, besides, four wings, and undergo complete transformations.

There are among insects strange resemblances. Insects of one sub-order will show a marked likeness to those of another. This is known as mimicry, and sometimes is wonderfully striking between very distant groups. Darwin and Wallace suppose it is a developed peculiarity, not always possessed by the species, and comes through the laws of variation, and natural selection to serve the purpose of protection. Now, right here we have a fine illustration of this mimicry. Just the other day I received through Mr. A. I. Root, an insect which he and the person sending it to him supposed to be a bee, and desired to know whether it was a mal-formed honey-bee or some other species. Now, this insect, though looking in a general way much like a bee, had only two wings, had no jaws, while its antennæ were closer together in front and mere stubs. In fact, it was no bee at all, but belonged to the sub-order Diptera, or two-wing flies. I have received several similar insects, with like inquiries. Among Diptera there are several families, as the Œstridæ or bot-flies, the Syrphidæ—a very useful family, as the larvæ or maggots live on plant-lice—whose members are often seen sipping sweets from flowers, or trying to rob honey and other bees—the one referred to above belonged to this family—and the Bombyliidæ, which in color, form and hairy covering are strikingly like wild and domesticated bees. The maggots of these feed on the larvæ of various of our wild bees, and of course the mother fly must steal into the nests of the latter to lay her eggs. So in these cases, there is seeming evidence that the mimicry may serve to protect these fly-tramps, as they steal in to pilfer the coveted sweets or lay the fatal eggs. Possibly, too, they may have a protective scent, as I have seen them enter a hive in safety, though a bumble-bee essaying to do the same, found the way barricaded with myriad cimeters each with a poisoned tip.

Some authors have placed Coleoptera or beetles as the highest of insects, others claim for Lepidoptera or butterflies and moths a first place, while others, and with the best of reasons, claim for Hymenoptera the highest position. The moth is admired for the glory of its coloring and elegance of its form, the beetle for the luster and brilliancy of its elytra or wing-covers; but these insects only revel in nature's wealth, and live and die without labor or purpose. Hymenoptera usually less gaudy, generally quite plain and unattractive in color, are yet the most highly endowed among insects. They live with a purpose in view, and are the best models of industry to be found among animals. Our bees practice a division of labor the ants are still better political economists, as they have a specially endowed class in the community who are the soldiers, and thus are the defenders of each ant-kingdom. Ants also conquer other communities, take their inhabitants captive and reduce them to abject slavery—requiring them to perform a large portion, and sometimes the whole labor of the community. Ants tunnel streams, and in the tropics some leaf-eating species have been observed to show no mean order of intelligence, as some ascend trees to cut off the leafy twigs, while others remain below, and carry these branches through their tunnels to their under-ground homes.

The parasitic Hymenoptera, are so called because they lay their eggs in other insects, that their offspring may have fresh meat not only at birth, but so long as they need food, as the insect fed upon generally lives till the young parasite, which is working to disembowel it, is full-grown. Thus this steak is ever fresh as life itself. These parasitic insects show wondrous intelligence, or sense development, in discovering this prey. I have caught ichneumon-flies—a family of these parasites—boring through an eighth or quarter-inch of solid beech or maple wood, and upon examination I found the prospective victim further on in direct line with the insect auger, which was to intrude the fatal egg. I have also watched ichneumon-flies depositing eggs in leaf-rolling caterpillars, so surrounded with tough hickory leaves that the fly had to pierce several thicknesses to place the egg in its snugly-ensconced victim. Upon putting these leaf-rolling caterpillars in a box, I reared, of course, the ichneumon-fly and not the moth. And is it instinct or reason that enables these flies to gauge the number of their eggs to the size of the larva which is to receive them, so that there may be no danger of famine and starvation, for true it is that while small caterpillars will receive but one egg, large ones may receive several. How strange, too, the habits of the saw-fly, with its wondrous instruments more perfect than any saws of human workmanship, and the gall-flies, whose poisonous sting as they fasten their eggs to the oak, willow or other leaves, causes the abnormal growth of food for the still unhatched young. The providing and caring for their young, which are at first helpless, is peculiar among insects, with slight exception, to the Hymenoptera, and among all animals is considered a mark of high rank. Such marvels of instinct, if we may not call it intelligence, such acumen of sense perception, such habits—that must go hand-in-hand with the most harmonious of communities known among animals, of whatever branch—all these, no less than the compact structure, small size and specialized organs of nicest finish, more than warrant that grand trio of American naturalists, Agassiz, Dana and Packard, in placing Hymenoptera as first in rank among insects. As we shall detail the structure and habits of the highest of the high—the bees—in the following pages, I am sure no one will think to degrade the rank of these wonders of the animal kingdom.

FAMILY OF THE HONEY-BEE.

The honey-bee belongs to the family Apidæ, of Leach, which includes not only the hive bee, but all insects which feed their helpless young, or larvæ, entirely on pollen, or honey and pollen.

The insects of this family have broad heads, elbowed antennæ ([Fig, 2, d]) which are usually thirteen-jointed in the males, and only twelve-jointed in the females. The jaws or mandibles ([Fig, 21]) are very strong, and often toothed; the tongue or ligula ([Fig, 20, a]), as also the second jaws or maxillæ ([Fig. 20, c]), one each side the tongue, are long, though in some cases much shorter than in others, and frequently the tongue when not in use is folded back, once or more, under the head. All the insects of this family have a stiff spine on all four of the anterior legs, at the end of the tibia, or the third joint from the body, called the tibial spur, and all, except the genus Apis, which includes the honey-bee, in which the posterior legs have no tibial spurs, have two tibial spurs on the posterior legs. All of this family except one parasitic genus, have the first joint or tarsus of the posterior foot, much widened, and this together with the broad tibia ([Fig, 2, h]) is hollowed out ([Fig, 22, p]), forming quite a basin or basket on the outer side, in nearly all the species; and generally, this basket is made deeper by a rim of stiff hairs. These receptacles or pollen baskets are only found of course on such individuals of each community as gather pollen. A few of the Apidæ—thieves by nature—cuckoo-like, steal unbidden into the nests of others, usually bumble-bees, and here lay their eggs. As their young are fed and fostered by another, they gather no pollen, and hence like drone bees need not, and have not pollen baskets. The young of these lazy tramps, starve out the real insect babies of these homes, by eating their food, and in some cases, it is said, being unable like the young cuckoos to hurl these rightful children from the nest, they show an equal if not greater depravity by eating them, not waiting for starvation to get them out of the way. These parasites illustrate mimicry, already described, as they look so like the foster mothers of their own young, that unscientific eyes would often fail to distinguish them. Probably the bumble-bees are no sharper, or they would refuse ingress to these merciless vagrants.

The larvæ ([Fig, 12]) of all insects of this family are maggot-like—wrinkled, footless, tapering at both ends, and, as before stated, feed upon pollen and honey. They are helpless, and thus, all during their babyhood—the larvæ state—the time when all insects are most ravenous, and the only time when many insects take food, the time when all growth in size, except such enlargement as is required by egg-development, occurs, these infant bees have to be fed by their mothers or elder sisters. They have a mouth with soft lips, and weak jaws, yet it is doubtful if all or much of their food is taken in at this opening. There is some reason to believe that they, like many maggots—such as the Hessian-fly larvæ—absorb much of their food through the body walls. From the mouth leads the intestine, which has no anal opening. So there are no excreta other than gas and vapor. What commendation for their food, all capable of nourishment, and thus all assimilated.

To this family belongs the genus of stingless bees, Melipona, of Mexico and South America, which store honey not only in the hexagonal brood-cells, but in great wax reservoirs. They, like the unkept hive-bee, build in hollow logs. They are exceedingly numerous in each colony, and it has thus been thought that there were more than one queen. They are also very prodigal of wax, and thus may possess a prospective commercial importance in these days of artificial comb-foundation. In this genus the basal joint of the tarsus is triangular, and they have two submarginal cells, not three, to the front wings. They are also smaller than our common bees, and have wings that do not reach to the tip of their abdomens.

Another genus of stingless bees, the genus Trigona, have the wings longer than the abdomens, and their jaws toothed. These, unlike the Melipona, are not confined to the New World, but are met in Africa, India and Australasia. These build their combs in tall trees, fastening them to the branches much as does the Apis dorsata, soon to be mentioned.

Of course insects of the genus Bombus—our common bumble-bees—belong to this family. Here the tongue is very long, the bee large, the sting curved, with the barbs very short and few. Only the queen survives the winter. In spring she forms her nest under some sod or board, hollowing out a basin in the earth, and after storing a mass of bee-bread—probably a mixture of honey and pollen—she deposits several eggs in the mass. The larvæ so soon as hatched out, eat out thimble-shaped spaces, which in time become even larger, and not unlike in form the queen-cells of our hive-bees. When the bees issue from these cells the same are strengthened by wax. Later in the season these coarse wax cells become very numerous. Some may be made as cells and not termed as above. The wax is dark, and doubtless contains much pollen, as do the cappings and queen-cells of the honey-bees. At first the bees are all workers, later queens appear, and still later males. All, or nearly all, entomologists speak of two sizes of queen bumble-bees, the large and the small. The small appear early in the season, and the large late. A student of our College, Mr. N. P. Graham, who last year had a colony of bumble-bees in his room the whole season, thinks this an error. He believes that the individuals of the Bombus nest exactly correspond with those of the Apis. The queens, like those of bees, are smaller before mating and active laying. May not this be another case like that of the two kinds of worker-bees which deceived even Huber, an error consequent upon lack of careful and prolonged observation?

In Xylocopa or the carpenter-bees, which much resemble the bumble-bees, we have a fine example of a boring insect. With its strong mandibles or jaws it cuts long tunnels, often one or two feet long in the hardest wood. These burrows are divided by chip partitions into cells, and in each cell is left the bee-bread and an egg.

The mason-bee—well named—constructs cells of earth and gravel, which by aid of its spittle it has power to cement, so that they are harder than brick.

The tailor or leaf-cutting bees, of the genus Megachile, make wonderful cells from variously shaped pieces of leaves. These are always mathematical in form, usually circular and oblong, and are cut—by the insect's making scissors of its jaws—from various leaves, the rose being a favorite. I have found these cells made almost wholly of the petals or flower leaves of the rose. The cells are made by gluing these leaf-sections in concentric layers, letting them over-lap. The oblong sections form the walls of the cylinder, while the circular pieces are crowded as we press circular wads into our shot-guns, and are used at the ends or for partitions where several cells are placed together. When complete, the single cells are in form and size much like a revolver cartridge. When several are placed together, which is usually the case, they are arranged end to end, and in size and form are quite like a small stick of candy, though not more than one-third as long. These cells I have found in the grass, partially buried in the earth, in crevices, and in one case knew of their being built in the folds of a partially-knit sock, which a good house-wife had chanced to leave stationary for some days. These leaf-cutters have rows of hairs underneath, with which they carry pollen. I have noticed them each summer for some years swarming on the Virginia creeper, often called woodbine, while in blossom, in quest of pollen, though I never saw a single hive-bee on these vines. The tailor-bees often cut the foliage of the same vines quite badly.

I have often reared beautiful bees of the genus Osmia, which are also called mason-bees. Their glistening colors of blue and green possess a luster and reflection unsurpassed even by the metals themselves. These rear their young in cells of mud, in mud-cells lining hollow weeds and shrubs, and in burrows which they dig in the hard earth. In early summer, during warm days, these glistening gems of life are frequently seen in walks and drives intent on gathering earth for mortar, or digging holes, and will hardly escape identification by the observing apiarist, as their form is so much like that of our honey-bees. They are smaller; yet their broad head, prominent eyes, and general form, are very like those of the equally quick and active, yet more soberly attired, workers of the apiary.

Other bees—the numerous species of the genus Nomada, and of Apathus, are the black sheep in the family Apidæ. These tramps, already referred to, like the English cuckoo and our American cow-blackbird, steal in upon the unwary, and, though all unbidden, lay their eggs; in this way appropriating food and lodgings for their own yet unborn. Thus these insect vagabonds impose upon the unsuspecting foster-mothers in these violated homes. And these same foster-mothers show by their tender care of these merciless intruders, that they are miserably fooled, for they carefully guard and feed infant bees, which with age will in turn practice this same nefarious trickery.

I reluctantly withhold further particulars of this wonderful bee family. When first I visited Messrs. Townley and Davis, of this State, I was struck with the fine collection of wild bees which each had made. Yet, unknowingly, they had incorporated many that were not bees. Of course, many apiarists will wish to make such collections and also to study our wild bees. I hope the above will prove efficient aid. I hope, too, that it will stimulate others, especially youth, to the valuable and intensely interesting study of these wonders of nature. I am glad, too, to open to the reader a page from the book of nature so replete with attractions as is the above. Nor do I think I have taken too much space in revealing the strange and marvelous instincts, and wonderfully varied habits, of this highest of insect families, at the head of which. Stand our own fellow-laborers and companions of the apiary.

Fig. 3.

THE GENUS OF THE HONEY-BEE.

The genus Apis includes all bees that have no tibial spurs on the posterior legs. They have three cubital or sub-costal cells (1, 2, 3, [Fig, 3])—the second row from the costal or anterior edge—on the front or primary wings. On the inner side of the posterior basal tarsus, opposite the pollen baskets, in the neuters or workers, are rows of hairs ([Fig, 23]) which are probably used in collecting pollen. In the males, which do no work except to fertilize the queens, the large compound eyes meet above, crowding the three simple eyes below ([Fig, 4]), while in the workers ([Fig, 5]) and queens these simple eyes, called ocelli ([Fig, 5]), are above, and the compound eyes ([Fig, 5]) wide apart. The queens and drones have weak jaws, with a rudimentary tooth ([Fig, 21, b]), short tongues, and no pollen baskets, though they have the broad tibia and wide basal tarsus ([Fig, 16, p]).

Fig. 4.

Fig. 5.

There is some doubt as to the number of species of this genus, it is certain that the Apis Ligustica of Spinola, or Italian bee, the Apis fascial a of Latreille, or Egyptian bee, are only varieties of the Apis mellifica, which also includes the German or black bee.

Mr. F. Smith, an able entomologist, considers Apis dorsata of India and the East Indies, Apis zonata of the same islands, Apis Indica of India and China, and Apis florea of India, Ceylon, China and Borneo, as distinct species. He thinks, also, that Apis Adansoni and Apis nigrocincta are distinct, but thinks they may be varieties of Apis Indica. Some regard Apis unicolor as a distinct species, but it is probably a variety of Apis dorsata. As Apis mellifica has not been found in India, and is a native of Europe, Western Asia and Africa, it seems quite probable that several of the above may turn out to be only varieties of Apis mellifica. If there are only color and size to distinguish them, and, indeed, one may add habits, then we may suspect, with good reason, the validity of the above arrangement. If there is structural difference, as Mr. Wallace says there is, in the male dorsata, then we may call them different species. The Italian certainly has a longer tongue than the German, yet that is not sufficient to separate them as species. Apis zonata and Apis unicolor, both of the East Indies are said to be very black. Apis dorsata is large, suspends its combs to the branches of trees—in rare cases our own bees have been known to do the same—is said to be cross, to have a very long tongue, to be larger than our common bee, and to make larger cells.

Apis florea is small, only half as large as Apis mellifica, of different form, while the posterior tarsus of the male is lobed.

It would be very interesting, and perhaps profitable, to import these various species, and see how marked is the difference between them and ours. Such work can be best accomplished through our National Association. Very likely, as we come to know these far-off bees as we know the German and Italian, we shall find that their amiability, size, habits of comb-building, and lengthened organs, are only peculiarities developed by climate and surrounding conditions, and shall sweep them all into the one species. Apis mellifica, to be regarded as we now regard the Italian and Egyptian, as only varieties.

It seems strange that the genus Apis should not have been native to the American continent. Without doubt there were no bees of this genus here till introduced by the Caucasian race. It seems more strange, as we find that all the continents and islands of the Eastern hemisphere abound with representatives. It is one more illustration of the strange, inextricable puzzles connected with geographical distribution of animals.

SPECIES OF OUR HONEY-BEES.

The bees at present domesticated unquestionably belong to the Apis mellifica. The character of this species will appear in the next chapter, as we proceed with their anatomy and physiology. As before stated, this species is native exclusively to the Eastern hemisphere, though it has been introduced wherever civilized man has taken up his abode.

VARIETIES or THE HONEY-BEE.

GERMAN OR BLACK BEE.

The German or black bee is the variety best known, as through all the ages it has been most widely distributed. The name German refers to locality, while the name black is a misnomer, as the bee is a gray-black. The queen, and in a less degree the drones, are darker, while the legs and under surface of the former are brown, or copper color, and of the latter light-gray. The tongue of the black worker I have found, by repeated dissections and comparisons made both by myself and by my pupils, is shorter than that of the Italian worker, and generally less hairy. The black bees have been known no longer than the Italians, as we find the latter were known both to Aristotle, the fourth century B. C, and to Virgil, the great Roman poet, who sung of the variegated golden bee, the first century B. C.; and we can only account for the wider distribution of the German bee by considering the more vigorous pushing habits of the Germanic races, who not only over-ran and infused life into Southern Europe, but have vitalized all Christendom.

LIGURIAN OR ITALIAN BEE.

The Italian bee (see frontis-plate) is characterized as a variety, not only by difference of color, habits, and activity, but also by possessing a little longer tongue. These bees were first described as distinct from the German race by Spinola, in 1805, who gave the name Ligurian bee, which name prevails; in Europe. The name comes from a province of Northern Italy, north of the Ligurian Gulf, or Gulf of Genoa. This region is shut off from Northern Europe by the Alps, and thus these bees were kept apart from the German bees, and in warmer, more genial Italy, was developed a distinct race, our beautiful Italians.

In 1843, Von Baldenstein procured a colony of these bees, which he had previously observed as peculiar, while stationed as a military captain in Italy. He published his experience in 1848, which was read by Dzierzon, who became interested, and through him the Italian became generally introduced into Germany. In 1859, six years after Dzierzon's first importation, the Italian variety was introduced into England by Neighbour, the author of the valuable treatise already referred to. The same year, Messrs Wagner and Colvin imported the Italians from Dzierzon's apiary into America; and in 1860, Mr. S. P. Parsons brought the first colonies that were imported direct from Italy.

The Italian worker (see frontis-plate) is quickly distinguished by the bright-yellow rings at the base of the abdomen. If the colony is pure, every bee will show three of these golden girdles. The two first segments or rings of the abdomen, except at their posterior border, and also the base or anterior border of the third, will be of this orange-yellow hue. The rest of the back or dorsal surface will be much as in the German race. Underneath, the abdomen, except for a greater or less distance at the tip, will also be yellow, while the same color appears more or less strongly marked on the legs. The workers, too, have longer ligulæ or tongues ([Fig, 20]) than do the German race, and their tongues are also a little more hairy. They are also more active, and less inclined to sting. The queen has the entire base of her abdomen, and sometimes nearly the whole of it, orange yellow. The variation as to amount of color in the queens, is quite striking. Sometimes very dark queens are imported right from the Ligurian hills, yet all the workers will wear the badge of purity—the three golden bands.

The drones, too, are quite variable. Sometimes the rings and patches of yellow will be very prominent, then, again, quite indistinct. But the underside of the body is always, so far as I have observed, mainly yellow.

THE FASCIATA OR EGYPTIAN RACE.

The word fasciata means banded, as the Egyptian bee is very broadly banded with yellow. I have never seen these bees, but from descriptions by Latreille, Kirby, and Bevan, I understand that all the bees are rather smaller, more slim, and much more yellow than the Italians. Herr Vogel states that they gather no propolis, but that each colony contains a number of small drone-laying queens. These bees were probably the ones which, with the kine of the ancient goodly land of promise, gave the rich pabulum, that gave the reputation: "flowing with milk and honey." They are thus the oldest of domesticated bees. These, too, are said to have been moved in rude boats or rafts up and down the Nile, as the flower pasturage seemed to require. The bees are said to be very active, to be proof against the cold, and have also been reputed very cross.

OTHER VARIETIES.

There are several other doubtful varieties which are receiving some attention from the German apiarists, and are honored with attention at the great meetings of Austria and Germany, as we learn from the bee-publications of those countries. The Cyprian bee, from the Isle of Cyprus, as its name indicates, is yellow, and probably an offspring from the Italian or Egyptian. So far as we can learn, it has no merits which will make it preferred to the Italian. Some say it is more beautiful, others that it is less amiable. Other varieties, which are not probably distinct races, or at least may not be, are the Heath, the Carniolan or Krainer and the Herzegovinian. They are not considered superior to the German and Italian.

A variety of our Italian which has rows of white hairs unusually distinct, is being sold in the United States under the name of Albinos. That they are a distinct race is not at all likely. In fact, I have noticed among our Italian stocks every year, the so-called Albinos.

BIBLIOGRAPHY.

It would be a pleasing duty, and not an unprofitable one, to give in this connection a complete history of entomology so far as it relates to Apis mellifica. Yet, this would take much space, and as there is quite a full history in books that I shall recommend to those who are eager to know more of this interesting department of natural history, I will not go into details.

Aristotle wrote of bees more than three hundred years B. C. About three hundred years later, Virgil, in his fourth Georgic, gave to the world the views then extant on this subject, gathered largely from the writings of Aristotle. The poetry will ever be remarkable for its beauty and elegance—would that as much could be said for the subject matter, which, though full of interest, is also full of errors. A little later Columella, though usually careful and accurate in his observations, still gave voice to the prevailing errors, though much that he wrote was valuable, and more was curious. Pliny, the Elder, who wrote in the first century A. D., helped to continue the erroneous opinions which previous authors had given, and not content with this, he added opinions of his own, which were not only without foundation, but were often the perfection of absurdity.

After this, nearly two thousand years passed with no progress in natural history; even for two centuries after the revival of learning, we find nothing worthy of note. Swammerdam, a Dutch entomologist, in the middle of the 17th century, wrote a general history of insects, also, "The Natural History of Bees." He and his English cotemporary, Ray, showed their ability as naturalists by founding their systems on the insect transformations. They also revived the study and practice of anatomy, which had slept since its first introduction by Aristotle, as the great stepping-stone in zoological progress. Ray also gave special attention to Hymenoptera, and was much aided by Willoughby and Lister. At this time Harvey, so justly noted for his discovery of the circulation of the blood, announced his celebrated dictum, "Omnia ex ovo,"—all life from eggs—which was completely established by the noted Italians, Redi and Malpighi. Toward the middle of the 18th century, the great Linnæus—"the brilliant Star of the North"—published his "System Naturæ," and threw a flood of light on the whole subject of natural history. His division of insects was founded upon presence, or absence, and characteristics, of wings. This, like Swammerdam's basis, was too narrow, yet his conclusions were remarkably correct. Linnæus is noted for his accurate descriptions, and especially for his gift of the binomial method of naming plants and animals, giving in the name the genus and species, as, Apis mellifica. He was also the first to introduce classes and orders, as we now understand them. When we consider the amount and character of the work of the great Swede we can but place him among the first, if not as the first, of naturalists. Cotemporary with Linnæus (also written Linné) was Geoffroy, who did valuable work in defining new genera. In the last half of the century appeared the great work of a master in entomology, DeGeer, who based his arrangement of insects on the character of wings and jaws, and thus discovered another of nature's keys to aid him in unlocking her mysteries. Kirby well says: "He united in himself the highest merit of almost every department of entomology." As a scientist, an anatomist, a physiologist, and as the observant historian of the habits and economy of insects, he is above all praise. What a spring of self-improvement, enjoyment and of public usefulness, is such an ability to observe, as was possessed by the great DeGeer.

Contemporary with Linnæus and DeGeer was Réaumur, of France, whose experiments and researches are of special interest to apiarists. Perhaps no entomologist has done more to reveal the natural history of bees. Especially to be commended are his method of experimenting, his patience in investigation, the elegance and felicity of his word pictures, and, above all, his devotion to truth. We shall have occasion to speak of this conscientious and indefatigable worker in the great shop of insect-life frequently in the following pages. Bonnet, of Geneva, the able correspondent of Réaumur, also did valuable work, in which the lover of bees has a special interest. Bonnet is specially noted for his discovery and elucidation of parthenogenesis—that anomalous mode of reproduction—as it occurs among the Aphides or plant-lice, though he did not discover that our bees, in the production of drones, illustrate the same doctrine. Though the author of no system, he gave much aid to Réaumur in his systematic labors.

At this same period systematic entomology received great aid from Lyonnet's valuable work. This author dissected and explained the development of a caterpillar. His descriptions and illustrations are wonderful, and will proclaim his ability as long as entomology is studied, and they, to quote Bonnet, "demonstrate the existence of God."

We have next to speak of the great Dane, Fabricius—a student of Linnæus—who published his works from 1775 to 1798, and thus was revolutionizing systematic entomology at the same time that we of America were revolutionizing government. He made the mouth organs the basis of his classification, and thus followed in the path which DeGeer had marked out, though it was scarcely beaten by the latter while Fabricius left it wide and deep. His classes and orders are no improvement on, in fact, are not nearly as correct, as were his old master's. In his description of genera—where he pretended to follow nature—he has rendered valuable service In leading scientists to study parts, before little regarded, and thus to better establish affinities, he did a most valuable work. His work is a standard, and should be thoroughly studied by all entomologists.

Just at the close of the last century, appeared the greatest "Roman of them all," the great Latreille, of France, whose name we have so frequently used in the classification of the honey-bee. His is called the Elective System, as he used wings, mouth-parts, transformations, in fact, all the organs—the entire structure. He gave us our Family Apidæ, our genus Apis, and, as will be remembered, he described several of the species of this genus. In our study of this great man's work, we constantly marvel at his extensive researches and remarkable talents. Lamark, of this time, except that he could see no God in nature, did very admirable work. So, too, did Cuvier, of Napoleon's time, and the learned Dr. Leach, of England. Since then we have had hosts of workers in this field, and many worthy of not only mention but praise; yet the work has been to rub up and garnish, rather than to create. So I will close this brief history with a notice of authors who are very serviceable to such as may desire to glean farther of the treasures of systematic entomology; only remarking that at the end of the next chapter I shall refer to those who have been particularly serviceable in developing the anatomy and physiology of insects, especially of bees.

VALUABLE BOOKS FOR THE STUDENT OF ENTOMOLOGY.

For mere classification, no work is equal to Westwood on Insects—two volumes. In this the descriptions and illustrations are very full and perfect, making it easy to study the families, and even genera, of all the sub-orders. This work and the following are out of print, but can be got with little trouble at second-hand book-stores.

Kirby and Spence—Introduction to Entomology—is a very complete work. It treats of the classification, structure, habits, general economy of insects, and gives a history of the subject. It is an invaluable work, and a great acquisition to any library.

Dr. Packard's Guide to the Study of insects is a valuable work, and being American, is specially to be recommended.

The Reports of Dr. T. Harris, Dr. A. Fitch, and of Prof. C. V. Riley, will also be found of great value and interest.

CHAPTER II.
ANATOMY AND PHYSIOLOGY.

In this chapter I shall give first the general anatomy of insects; then the anatomy, and still more wonderful physiology of the honey-bee.

ANATOMY OF INSECTS.

In all insects the body is divided into three well-marked portions ([Fig, 2]): the head (Figs. [4] and [5]), which contains the mouth-organs, the eyes, both the compound and when present the simple, and the antennæ; the thorax, which is composed of three rings, and gives support to the one or two pairs of wings, and to the three pairs of legs; and the abdomen, which is composed of a variable number of rings, and gives support to the external sex-organs, and when present to the sting. Within the thorax there are little more than muscles, as the concentrated strength of insects, which enables them to fly with such rapidity, dwells in this confined space. Within the abdomen, on the other hand, are the sex-organs, by far the greater and more important portions of the alimentary canal, and other important organs.

ORGANS OF THE HEAD.

Of these the mouth organs ([Fig, 6]) are most prominent. These consist of an upper lip—labrum—and under lip—labium—and two pairs of jaws which move sidewise; the stronger, horny jaws, called mandibles, and the more membranous, but usually longer, maxillæ. The labrum ([Fig. 6, l]) is well described in the name upper lip. It is attached, usually, by a movable joint to a similarly shaped piece above it, called clypeus ([Fig. 6, c]), and this latter to the broad epicranium ([Fig. 6, o]), which contains the antennæ, the compound, and, when present, the simple eyes.

The labium ([Fig, 15]) is not described by the name under lip, as its base forms the floor of the mouth, and its tip the tongue. The base is usually broad, and is called the mentum, and from this extends the tongue ([Fig. 15, a]) or ligula. On either side, near the junction of the ligula and mentum, arises a jointed organ rarely absent, called the labial palpus ([Fig. 6, k k]), or, together, the labial palpi. Just within the angle formed by these latter and the ligula arise the paraglossæ ([Fig. 15, d]), one on either side. These are often wanting.

Fig. 6.

The jaws or mandibles ([Fig, 6, m, m]) arise one on either side just below and at the side of the labrum, or upper lip. These work sidewise instead of up and down as in higher animals, are frequently very hard and sharp, and sometimes armed with one or more teeth. A rudimentary tooth ([Fig, 21, b]) is visible on the jaws of drone and queen bees.

Beneath the jaws or mandibles, and inserted a little farther back, are the second jaws or maxillæ ([Fig. 6, m x]), less dense and firm than the mandibles, but far more complex. They arise by a small joint, the cardo, next this is a larger joint, the stipes, from this extends on the inside the broad lacinia ([Fig, 20, c]) or blade, usually fringed with hairs on its inner edge, towards the mouth; while on the outside of the stipes are inserted the—from one to several jointed—maxillary palpi. In bees these are very small, and consist of two joints, and in some insects are wholly wanting. Sometimes, as in some of the beetles, there is a third member running from the stipes between the palpus and lacinia called the galea. The maxillæ also move sidewise, and probably aid in holding and turning the food while it is crushed by the harder jaws, though in some cases they, too, aid in triturating the food.

These mouth parts are very variable in form in different insects. In butterflies and moths, two-wing flies and bugs, they are transformed into a tube, which in the last two groups forms a hard, strong beak or piercer, well exemplified in the mosquito and bed-bug. In all the other insects we find them much as in the bees, with the separate parts varying greatly in form, to agree with the habits and character of their possessors. No wonder DeGeer and Fabricius detected these varying forms as strongly indicative of the nature of the insect, and no wonder, too, that in their use they were so successful in forming a natural classification.

Every apiarist will receive great benefit by dissecting these parts and studying their form and relations for himself. By getting his children interested in the same, he will have conferred upon them one of the rarest of blessings.

To dissect these parts, first remove the head and carefully pin it to a cork, passing the pin through, well back between the eyes. Now separate the parts by two needle points, made by inserting a needle for half its length into a pine stick the shape of a pipe-stem, leaving the point projecting for an inch or more. With one of these in each hand commence operations. The head may be either side up. Much may be learned in dissecting large insects, even with no glass; but in all cases, and especially in small insects, a good lens will be of great value. The best lens is one of Tolles', sold by Mr. Stoddard, of the Boston optical works. These are very excellent and thus high priced, costing $14.00. Gray's triplet hand-lenses are very good, are cheap, and can be procured for about $2.00 of any optician. The handle should have a hole through it to permit of mounting it above the object, so that it will hold itself. Tolles' lenses are easily mounted, in a stand which any one can contrive and make in twenty minutes. I value my Tolles' lens even more highly than my large compound microscope, which cost $150. Were I obliged to part with either, the latter would go.

I require my students to do a great deal of dissecting, which they enjoy very much and find very valuable. I would much rather that my boy would become interested in such study, than to have him possessor of infinite gold rings, or even a huge gold watch, with a tremendous charm. Let such pleasing recreation gain the attention of our boys, and they will ever contribute to our delight, and not sadden us with anxiety and fear.

The antennæ ([Fig, 6, a, a]) are the horn-like jointed organs situated between or below and in front of the large compound eyes of all insects. They are sometimes short, as in the house-fly, and sometimes very long, as in the grasshoppers. They are either straight, curved or elbowed ([Fig, 6]). In form, too, they are very various, as thread-like, tapering, toothed, knobbed, fringed, feathered, etc. It is known that a nerve passes into the antennæ, but their exact function is little understood. That they serve as most delicate touch organs no apiarist can doubt. That they serve as organs of smell or hearing is not proved. That insects are conscious of sounds I think no observing person can doubt. It is proved by the call of the katy-did, the cicada and the cricket. What apiarist, too, has not noticed the effect of various sounds made by the bees upon their comrades of the hive. How contagious the sharp note of anger, the low hum of fear, and the pleasant tone of a new swarm as they commence to enter their new home. Now, whether insects take note of these vibrations, as we recognize pitch, or whether they just distinguish the tremor, I think no one knows. There is some reason to believe that their delicate touch-organs may enable them to discriminate between vibrations, even more acutely, than can we by use of our ears. A slight jar will quickly awaken a colony of hybrids, while a loud noise will pass unnoticed. If insects can appreciate with great delicacy the different vibratory conditions of the air by an excessive development of the sense of touch, then undoubtedly the antennæ may be great aids. Dr. Clemens thought that insects could only detect atmospheric vibrations. So, too, thought Linnæus and Bonnet. Siebold thinks, as the antennæ receive but one nerve, and are plainly touch-organs, they cannot be organs of hearing. Kirby has noticed that some moths turn their antennæ towards the direction from which noise proceeds, and thus argues that antennæ are organs of hearing. Grote, for a similar reason, thinks that the densely feathered antennæ of the males of various night moths, serve both for smell and hearing. Prof. A. M. Mayer and Mr. C. Johnson (see American Naturalist, vol. 8, p. 574) have by various ingenious experiments, proved conclusively, that the delicate, beautifully feathered antennæ of the male mosquito are organs of hearing.

That insects have a very refined sense of smell is beyond question. How quickly the carrion-fly finds the carcass, the scavenger the filth, and the bee the precious nectar.

I have reared female moths in my study, and have been greatly surprised on the day of their leaving their cocoons, to find my room swarming with males. These bridegrooms entered an open window in the second-story of a brick building. How delicate must have been the sense by which they were led to make the visit, and thus made to grace my cabinet. Bees, too, have been known to dash against a shutter behind which were flowers, thus showing the superiority of their perception of odors, as also their poor vision. But odors are carried by the air, and must reach the insect through this medium. Is it not probable, that the various breathing mouths of insects are also so many noses, and that their delicate lining membranes abounding with, nerve filaments, are the great odor sentinels? This view was maintained by both Lehman and Cuvier, and explains this delicate perception of scents, as the breathing mouths are large and numerous, and most so in insects like bees and moths, which are most sensitive to odors. How quickly the bees notice the scent of a strange bee or queen, or the peculiar odor of the venom. I have known a bee to sting a glove, and in a trice the glove would be as a pin-cushion, with stings in lieu of pins. Sometimes the bees will dart for many feet, guided by this odor. Yet the odor is very pungent, as I have frequently smelt the poison before I felt the sting. I have tried the experiments of Huber and Lubbock, and know that such insects as bees and ants will take no note of food after the loss of their antennæ. But we must remember that this is a capital operation. With loss of antennæ, insects lose control of their motions, and in many ways show great disturbance. Is it not probable then that removing the antennæ destroys the desire for food, as does amputation with ourselves? Kirby believes with Huber, that there is a scent organ. Huber's experiments on which he based this opinion are, as usual, very interesting. He presented a coarse hair dipped in oil of turpentine—a substance very repugnant to bees—to various parts of a bee engrossed in sipping honey. The bee made no objection, even though it touched the ligula, until it approached the mouth above the mentum, when she became much disturbed. He also filled a bee's mouth with paste, which soon hardened, after which the bee paid no heed to honey placed near it. This was not so conclusive, as the bee may have been so disturbed as to lose its appetite. I have experimented a good deal, and am inclined to the following opinion: The antennæ are very delicate touch-organs or feelers, and are so important in their function and connection that removal produces a severe shock, but further we know but little about their function, if they have other, and from the very nature of the problem we will find it very difficult of solution.

The eyes are of two kinds, the compound, which are always present in mature insects, and the ocelli or simple eyes, which may or may not be present. When present there are usually three, which if we join by lines, we will describe a triangle, in the vertices of whose angles are the ocelli. Rarely there are but two ocelli, and very rarely but one.

The simple eyes ([Fig, 4, f f f]) are circular, and possess a cornea, lens and retina, which receives the nerve of sight.

From the experiments of Réaumur and Swammerdam, which consisted in covering the eyes with varnish, they concluded that vision with these simple eyes is very indistinct, though by them the insect can distinguish light. Some have thought that these simple eyes were for vision at slight distances. Larvæ, like spiders and myriapods, have only simple eyes.

The compound eyes ([Fig, 2, e]) are simply a cluster of simple eyes, are situated one on either side of the head, and vary much in form and size. Between or below these are inserted the antennæ. Sometimes these last are inserted in a notch of the eyes, and in a few cases actually divide each eye into two eyes.

The eyes may meet above as in drones ([Fig, 4]), most two-wing flies and dragon-flies, or they may be considerably separated, as in the worker-bees ([Fig, 5]). The separate facets or simple eyes, of each compound eye, are hexagonal, or six-sided, and in the microscope look not unlike a section of honey-comb. The number of these is prodigious—Leeuwenhoek actually counted 12,000 in the eye of a dragon-fly—while some butterflies have, over 17,000. The compound eyes are motionless, but from their size and sub-spherical shape, they give quite a range of vision. It is not likely that they are capable of adjustment to accord with different distances, and it has been supposed, from the direct darting flight of bees to their hives, and the awkward work they make in finding a hive when moved only for a short distance, that their eyes are best suited to long vision.

Sir John Lubbock has proved, by some interesting experiments with strips of colored paper, that bees can distinguish colors. Honey was placed on a blue strip, beside several others of various colors. In the absence of the bees he changed the position of this strip, and upon their return the bees went to the blue strip rather than to the old position. Our practical apiarists have long been aware of this fact, and have conformed their practice to the knowledge, in giving a variety of colors to their hives. Apiarists have frequently noted that bees have a rare faculty of marking positions, but, for slight distances, their sense of color will correct mistakes which would occur if position alone was guide.

APPENDAGES OF THE THORAX.

The organs of flight are the most noticeable appendages of the thorax. The wings are usually four, though the Diptera have but two, and some insects—as the worker ants—have none. The front or primary wings ([Fig, 3, A]) are usually larger than the secondary or hind wings ([Fig. 3, B]), and thus the mesathoracic or middle ring of the thorax, to which they are attached, is usually larger than the metathorax or third ring. The wings consist of a broad frame-work of veins ([Fig, 3]), covered by a thin, tough membrane. The main ribs or veins are variable in number, while towards the extremity of the wing are more or less cross-veins, dividing this portion of the wings into more or less cells. In the higher groups these cells are few, and quite important in classifying. Especially useful are the cells in the second row, from the frontal or costal edge of the front wings, called the sub-costal cells. Thus in the genus Apis there are three such cells ([Fig, 3, A, 1, 2, 3]), while in the Melipona there are only two. The ribs or veins consist of a tube within a tube. The inner one forming an air tube, the outer one carrying blood. On the costal edge of the secondary wings we often find hooks, to attach it to the front wings ([Fig. 3, B, a]).

Fig. 7.

The wings are moved by powerful muscles, compactly located in the thorax ([Fig, 7, a, a, a]), whose strength, as well as the rapidity of the vibrations of the wings when flight is rapid are really beyond computation. Think of a tiny fly outstripping the fleetest horse in the chase, and then marvel at this wondrous mechanism.

The legs ([Fig, 2, g, g, g]) are six in number in all mature insects, two on the lower side of each ring of the thorax. These are long or short, weak or strong, according to the habit of the insect. Each leg consists of the following joints or parts: The coxæ (Fig. 24), which move like a ball and socket joint in the close-fitting coxal cavities of the body-rings. Next to these follow in order the broad tracanter, the large, broad femur ([Fig. 2, g′, 1]), the long, slim tibia ([Fig. 2, g′, 2]), frequently bearing strong spines at or near its end, called tibial spurs, and followed by the from one to five-jointed tarsi ([Fig. 2, g′, 3, 3, 3, 3, 3]). All these parts move freely upon each other, and will vary in form to agree with their use. At the end of the last tarsal joint are two hooked claws ([Fig. 2, g′, 4]), between which are the pulvilli, which are not air-pumps as usually described, but rather glands, which secrete a sticky substance which enables insects to stick to a smooth wall, even though it be above them. The legs, in fact the whole crust, is more or less dense and hard, owing to the deposit within the structure of a hard substance known as chitine.

INTERNAL ANATOMY OF INSECTS.

The muscles of insects are usually whitish. Sometimes I have noticed quite a pinkish hue about the muscles of the thorax. They vary in form and position to accord with their use. The mechanism of contraction is the same as in higher animals. The ultimate fibers of the voluntary muscles, when highly magnified, show the striæ or cross-lines the same as do the voluntary muscles of vertebrates, and are very beautiful as microscopic objects. The separate muscles are not bound together by a membrane as in higher animals. In insects the muscles are widely distributed, though, as we should expect, they are concentrated in the thorax and head. In insects of swiftest flight, like the bee, the thorax ([Fig, 7, a, a, a]) is almost entirely composed of muscles; the œsophagus, which carries the food to the stomach, being very small. At the base of the jaws, too, the muscles are large and firm. The number of muscles is astounding. Lyonnet counted over 3,000 in a single caterpillar, nearly eight times as many as are found in the human body. The strength, too, of insects is prodigious. There must be quality in muscles, for muscles as large as those of the elephant, and as strong as those of the flea, would not need the fulcrum which the old philosopher demanded, in order to move the world. Fleas have been made to draw miniature cannon, chains, and even wagons many hundred times heavier than themselves.

The nerves of insects are in no wise peculiar so far as known, except in position. As in our bodies, some are knotted or have ganglia, and some are not.

The main nervous cord runs along the under or ventral side of the body ([Fig, 8]), separates near the head, and after passing around the œsophagus, enlarges to form the largest of the ganglia, which serves as a brain. The minute nerves extend everywhere, and in squeezing out the viscera of an insect are easily visible.

The organs of circulation in insects are quite insignificant. The heart is a long tube situated along the back, and receives the blood at valvular openings along its sides which only permit the fluid to pass in, when by contraction it is forced towards the head and emptied into the general cavity. Thus the heart only serves to keep the blood in motion. According to the best authorities, there are no special vessels to carry the blood to various organs. Nor are they necessary, as this nutritive fluid everywhere bathes the alimentary canal, and thus easily receives nutriment, or gives waste by osmosis, everywhere surrounds the tracheæ or air-tubes—the insect's lungs—and thus receives that most needful of all food, oxygen, and gives the baneful carbonic acid, everywhere touches the various organs, and gives and takes as the vital operations of the animal require.

The blood is light colored, and almost destitute of discs or corpuscles, which are so numerous in the blood of higher animals, and which give our blood its red color. The function of these discs is to carry oxygen, and as oxygen is carried everywhere through the body by the ubiquitous air-tubes of insects, we see the discs are not needed. Except these semi-fluid discs, which are real organs, and nourished as are other organs, the blood of higher animals is entirely fluid, in all normal conditions, and contains not the organs themselves or any part of them, but only the elements, which are absorbed by the tissue and converted into the organs, or, to be scientific, are assimilated. As the blood of insects is nearly destitute of these discs, it is almost wholly fluid, and is almost wholly made up of nutritious substance.

Fig. 8.

The respiratory or breathing system of insects has already been referred to. Along the sides of the body are the spiracles or breathing mouths, which vary in number. These are armed with a complex valvular arrangement which excludes dust or other noxious particles. These spiracles are lined with a delicate membrane which abounds with nerves, which were referred to in speaking of them as smelling organs. From these extend the labyrinth of air-tubes ([Fig, 2, f, f′]), which breathe vitalizing oxygen into every part of the insect organism. In the more active insects—as in bees—the main tracheæ, one on each side of the abdomen, are expanded into large air-sacks ([Fig. 2, f]). Insects often show a respiratory motion, which in bees is often very marked. Newport has shown that in bees the rapidity of the respiration gauges the heat in the hive, and thus we see why bees, in times of severe cold, which they essay to keep at bay by forced respiration, consume much food, exhale much foul air and moisture, and are liable to disease. Newport found that in cases of severe cold there would be quite a rise of mercury in a thermometer which he suspended in the hive amidst the cluster. In the larva state, many insects breathe by fringe-like gills. The larval mosquito has gills in form of hairy tufts, while in the larval dragon-fly the gills are inside the rectum, or last part of the intestine. This insect, by a muscular effort, draws the water slowly in at the anus, when it bathes these singularly-placed branchiæ, and then makes it serve a further turn by forcibly expelling it, when the insect is sent darting ahead. Thus this curious apparatus not only furnishes oxygen, but also a mode of motion. In the pupa; of insects there is little or no motion, yet important organic changes are taking place—the worm-like, ignoble, creeping, often repulsive larva, is soon to appear as the airy, beautiful, active, almost ethereal imago. So oxygen, the most essential—the sine qua non—of all animal food, is still needed. The bees are too wise to seal the brood-cell with impervious wax, but rather add the porous capping, made of wax and pollen. The pupæ no less than the larvæ of some two-wing flies, which live in water, have long tubes which reach far out for the vivifying air, and are thus called rat-tailed. Even the pupæ of the mosquito, awaiting in its liquid home the glad time when it shall unfold its tiny wings and pipe its war-note, has a similar arrangement to secure the gaseous pabulum.

The digestive apparatus of insects is very interesting, and, as in our own class of animals, varies very much in length and complexity, as the hosts of insects vary in their habits. As in mammals and birds, the length, with some striking exceptions, varies with the food. Carnivorous or flesh-eating insects have a short alimentary canal, while in those that feed on vegetable food it is much longer.

Fig. 9.

The mouth I have already described. Following this is the throat or pharynx, then the œsophagus or gullet, which may expand, as in the bee, to form a honey or sucking stomach ([Fig, 9, o]), may have an attached crop like the chicken, or may run as a uniform tube as in our bodies, to the true stomach ([Fig. 9, b]). Following this is the intestine—separated by some into an ileum and a rectum—which ends in a vent or anus. In the mouth are salivary glands, which in larvæ that form cocoons are the source of silk. In the glands this is a viscid fluid, but as it leaves the duct it changes instantly into the gossamer thread. Bees and wasps use this saliva in building their structures. With it and mud some wasps make mortar; with it and wood, others their paper cells with it and wax, the bee fashions the ribbons that are to form the beautiful comb.

Lining the entire alimentary canal are mucous glands which secrete a viscid fluid that keeps the tube soft, and promotes the passage of food.

The true stomach ([Fig. 9, b]) is very muscular, and often a gizzard, as in the crickets, where its interior is lined with teeth. The interior of the stomach is glandular, for secreting the gastric juice which is to liquify the food, that it may be absorbed, or pass through the walls of the canal into the blood. Attached to the lower portion of the stomach are numerous urinary tubes ([Fig. 9, c]) though Cuvier, and even Kirby, call these bile tubes. Siebold thinks some of the mucous glands secrete bile, and others act as a pancreas.

The intestine when short, as in larvæ and most carnivora, is straight and but little if any longer than the abdomen, while in most plant eaters it is long and thus zig-zag in its course. Strange as it may seem, the fecal pellets of some insects are beautiful in form, and of others pleasant to the taste. In some caterpillars they are barrel-shaped, artistically fluted, of brilliant hue, and if fossilized, would be greatly admired, as have been the coprolites—fossil feces of quadrupeds—if set as gems in jewelry. As it is, they would form no mean parlor ornament. In other insects, as the Aphides or plant-lice, the excrement, as well as the fluid that escapes in some species from special tubes called the nectaries, is very sweet, and in absence of floral nectar, will often be appropriated by bees and conveyed to the hives. Imagination would make this a bitter draught, so here, as elsewhere in life, the bitter and sweet are mingled. In those insects that suck their food, as bees, butterflies, moths, two-wing flies and bugs, the feces are watery or liquid, while in case of solid food the excrement is solid.

SECRETORY ORGANS OF INSECTS.

I have already spoken of the salivary glands, which Kirby gives as distinct from the true silk-secreting tubes, though Newport gives them as one and the same. . In many insects these seem absent. I have also spoken of the mucous glands, the urinary tubules, etc. Besides these, there are other secretions which serve for purposes of defense: In the queen and workers of bees, and in ants and wasps, the poison intruded with the sting is an example. This is secreted by glands at the posterior of the abdomen, stored in sacks ([Fig, 25, c]), and extruded through the sting, as occasion requires. I know of no insects that poison while they bite, except it be mosquitoes, gnats, etc., and in these cases no special secreting organ has been discovered. Perhaps the beak itself secretes an irritating substance. A few exceedingly beautiful caterpillars are covered with branching spines, which sting about like a nettle. We have two such species. They are green, and of rare attraction, so that to capture them is worth the slight inconvenience arising from their irritating punctures. Some insects, like bugs, secrete a disgusting fluid or gas which affords protection, as by its stench it renders these filthy bugs so offensive that even a hungry bird or half-famished insect passes them by on the other side. Some insects secrete a gas which is stored in a sack at the posterior end of the body, and shot forth with an explosion in case that danger threatens thus by noise and smoke it startles its enemy, which beats a retreat. I have heard the little bombardier beetle at such times, even at considerable distances. The frightful reports about the terrible horn of the tomato-worm larva are mere nonsense. A more harmless animal does not exist. My little boy of four years, and girl of only two, used to bring them to me last summer, and fondle them as admiringly as would their father upon receiving them from the delighted children.

If we except bees and wasps, there are no true insects that need be feared; nor need we except them, for with fair usage even they, are seldom provoked to use their cruel weapon.

SEX ORGANS OF INSECTS.

The male organs consist first of the testes ([Fig, 10, a]) which are double organs. There may be from one, as in the drone bee, to several, as in some beetles, on each side the abdominal cavity. In these vesicles grow the sperm cells or spermatozoa, which, when liberated, pass through a long convoluted tube, the vas-deferens ([Fig. 10, b, b]), into the seminal sack ([Fig. 10, c, c]), where, in connection with mucous, they are stored. In most insects there are glandular sacks ([Fig. 10, d]) joined to these seminal receptacles, which in the male bee or drone are very large. The sperm cells mingled with these viscid secretions, as they appear in the seminal receptacle, ready for use, form the seminal fluid. Extending from these seminal receptacles is the ejaculatory duct ([Fig. 10, e, f, g]), which in copulation carries the male fluid to the penis ([Fig. 10, d]), through which it passes to the spermatheca of the female. Beside this latter organ are the sheath, the claspers when present, and in the male bee those large yellow sacks ([Fig. 10, i]), which are often seen to dart forth as the drone is held in the warm hand.

Fig. 10.

Fig. 11.

The female organs ([Fig, 11]) consist of the ovaries ([Fig, 11, a, a]), which are situated one on either side of the abdominal cavity. From these extend the two oviducts, ([Fig. 11, b]), which unite into the common oviduct ([Fig. 11, c]) through which the eggs pass in deposition. In many insects there is beside this oviduct, and connected with it, a sack ([Fig. 11, e]) called the spermatheca, which receives the male fluid in copulation, and which, by extruding its contents, must ever after do the work of impregnation.

This sack was discovered and its use suggested by Malpighi as early as 1686, but its function was not fully demonstrated till 1792, when the great anatomist, John Hunter, showed that in copulation this was filled. The ovaries are multitubular organs. In some insects there are but very few tubes—two or three; while in the queen bee there are more than one hundred. In these tubes the ova or eggs grow, as do the sperm cells in the vesicles of the testes. The number of eggs is variable. Some insects, as the mud-wasps, produce very few, while the queen white-ant extrudes millions. The end of the oviduct, called the ovipositor, is wonderful in its variations. Sometimes it consists of concentric rings, like a spy-glass which may be pushed out or drawn in; sometimes of a long tube armed with augers or saws of wonderful finish, to prepare for eggs; or again of a tube which may also serve as a sting.

Most authors state that insects copulate only once, or at least that the female only meets the male but once. My pupil, Clement S. Strang, who made a special study of the structure and habits of bugs during the past season, noticed that the squash-bugs mated many times. It would be interesting to know whether these females possessed the spermatheca. In some cases, as we shall see in the sequel, the male is killed by the copulatory act. I think this curious fatality is limited to few species.

To study viscera, which of course requires very careful dissection, we need more apparatus than has been yet described. Here a good lens is indispensable. A small dissecting knife, a delicate pair of forceps, and some small, sharp-pointed dissecting scissors—those of the renowned Swammerdam were so fine at the point that it required a lens to sharpen them—which may also serve to clip the wings of queens—are requisite to satisfactory work. Specimens put in alcohol will be improved, as the oil will be dissolved out and the muscle hardened. Placing them in hot water will do nearly as well, in which case oil of turpentine will dissolve off the fat. This may be applied with a camel's-hair brush. By dissecting under water the loose portions will float off, and render effective work more easy. Swammerdam, who had that most valuable requisite to a naturalist, unlimited patience, not only dissected out the parts, but with small glass tubes, fine as a hair, he injected the various tubes as the alimentary canal and air-tubes. My reader, why may not you look in upon those wondrous beauties and marvels of God's own handiwork—nature's grand exposition? Father, why would not a set of dissecting instruments be a most suitable gift to your son? You might thus sow the seed which would germinate into a Swammerdam, and that on your own hearth-stone. Messrs. Editors, why do not you, among your apiarian supplies, keep boxes of these instruments, and thus aid to light the torch of genius and hasten apiarian research?

TRANSFORMATIONS OF INSECTS.

What in all the realm of nature is so worthy to awaken delight and admiration as the astonishing changes which insects undergo? Just think of the sluggish, repulsive caterpillar, dragging its heavy form over clod or bush, or mining in dirt and filth, changed, by the wand of nature's great magician, first into the motionless chrysalis, decked with green and gold, and beautiful as the gem that glitters on the finger of beauty, then bursting forth as the graceful, gorgeous butterfly; which, by its brilliant tints and elegant poise, out-rivals even the birds among the life-jewels of nature, and is made fit to revel in all her decorative wealth. The little fly, too, with wings dyed in rainbow-hues, flitting like, a fairy from leaf to flower, was but yesterday the repulsive maggot, reveling in the veriest filth of decaying nature. The grub to-day drags its slimy shape through the slums of earth, on which it fattens; to-morrow it will glitter as the brilliant setting in the bracelets and ear-drops of the gay and thoughtless belle.

There are four separate stages in the development of insects: The egg state, the larva, the pupa, and the imago.

THE EGG.

This is not unlike the same in higher animals. It has its yolk and its surrounding white or albumen, like the eggs of all mammals, and farther, the delicate shell, which is familiar in the eggs of birds and reptiles. Eggs of insects are often beautiful in form and color, and not infrequently ribbed and fluted as by a master-hand. The form of eggs is very various—spherical, oval, cylindrical, oblong, straight and curved ([Fig, 26, b]). All insects seem to be guided by a wonderful knowledge, or instinct, or intelligence, in the placing of eggs on or near the peculiar food of the larva. Even though in many cases such food is no part of the aliment of the imago insect. The fly has the refined habits of the epicure, from whose cup it daintily sips, yet its eggs are placed in the horse-droppings of stable and pasture.

Inside the egg wonderful changes soon commence, and their consummation is a tiny larva. Somewhat similar changes can be easily and most profitably studied by breaking and examining a hen's egg each successive day of incubation. As with the egg of our own species and of all higher animals, so, too, the egg of insects, or the yolk, the essential part—the white is only food, so to speak—soon segments or divides into a great many cells, these soon unite into a membrane—the blastoderm—and this is the initial animal. This blastoderm soon forms a single sack, and not a double sack, one above the other, as in our own vertebrate branch. This sack, looking like a miniature bag of grain, grows, by absorption, becomes articulated, and by budding out is soon provided with the various members. As in higher animals, these changes are consequent upon heat, and usually, not always, upon the incorporations within the eggs of the germ cells from the male, which enter the eggs at openings called micropyles. The time it takes the embryo inside the egg to develop is gauged by heat, and will, therefore, vary with the season and temperature, though in different species it varies from days to months. The number of eggs, too, which an insect may produce, is subject to wide variation. Some insects produce but one, two or three, while others, like the queen bee and white ant, lay thousands, and in case of the ant, millions.

Fig. 12.

THE LARVA OF INSECTS.

From the egg comes the larva, also called grub, maggot, caterpillar, and very erroneously worm. These are worm-shaped ([Fig, 12]), usually have strong jaws, simple eyes, and the body plainly marked into ring divisions. Often as in case of some grubs, larval bees and maggots, there are no legs. In most grubs there are six legs, two to each of the three rings succeeding the head. Besides these, caterpillars have usually ten prop-legs farther back on the body, though a few—the loopers or measuring caterpillars—have only four or six, while the larvæ of the saw-flies have from twelve to sixteen of the false or prop-legs. The alimentary canal of larval insects is usually short, direct and quite simple, while the sex-organs are slightly if at all developed. The larvæ of insects are voracious eaters—indeed, their only work seems to be to eat and grow fat. As the entire growth occurs at this stage, their gormandizing habits are the more excusable. I have often been astonished at the amount of food that the insects in my breeding cases would consume. The length of time which insects remain as larvæ is very variable. The maggot revels in decaying meat but two or three days; the larval bee eats its rich pabulum for nearly a week; the apple-tree borer gnaws away for three years; while the seventeen-year cicada remains a larva for more than sixteen years, groping in darkness, and feeding on roots, only to come forth for a few days of hilarity, sunshine, and courtship. Surely, here is patience exceeding even that of Swammerdam. The name larva, meaning masked, was given to this stage by Linnæus, as the mature form of the insect is hidden, and cannot be even divined by the unlearned.

THE PUPA OF INSECTS.

In this stage the insect is in profound repose, as if resting after its long meal, the better to enjoy its active, sportive days—the joyous honey-moon—soon to come. In this stage the insect may look like a seed; as in the coarctate pupa of diptera, so familiar in the "flax-seed" state of the Hessian-fly, or in the pupa of the cheese-maggot or the meat-fly. This same form, with more or less modification, prevails in butterfly pupæ, called, because of their golden spots, chrysalids, and in the pupæ of moths. Other pupæ, as in case of bees ([Fig, 13, g]) and beetles, look not unlike the mature insect with its antennæ, legs, and wings closely bound to the body by a thin membrane, hence the name which Linné gave—referring to this condition—as the insect looks as if wrapped in swaddling clothes, the old cruel way of torturing the infant, as if it needed holding together. Aristotle called pupæ nymphs—a name now given to this stage in bees—which name was adopted by many entomologists of the seventeeth and eighteenth centuries. Inside the pupa skin great changes are in progress, for either by modifying the larval organs or developing parts entirely new, by use of the accumulated material stored by the larva during its prolonged banquet, the wonderful transformation from the sluggish, worm-like larva to the active, bird-like imago is accomplished.

Fig. 13.