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The apiary; or, bees, bee-hives, and bee culture [1866] / Being a familiar account of the habits of bees, and the most improved methods of management, with full directions, adapted for the cottager, farmer, or scientific apiarian cover

The apiary; or, bees, bee-hives, and bee culture [1866] / Being a familiar account of the habits of bees, and the most improved methods of management, with full directions, adapted for the cottager, farmer, or scientific apiarian

Chapter 62: PROPOLIS, OR BEES' CEMENT.
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About This Book

The text offers a practical manual on bee biology and colony behavior alongside step-by-step instructions for constructing and managing various hives, especially bar-and-frame systems, and for humane methods to increase productivity through the depriving system. It covers hiving, moving colonies, seasonal care, and the introduction and handling of imported strains, with tips aimed at novices, smallholders, and more experienced apiarists. Economic and social advantages of bee-keeping, simple tools and routines for amateurs, and recommendations for adopting modern appliances and practices are also discussed to help readers establish and maintain productive apiaries.

VI. MISCELLANEOUS INFORMATION.

STINGS: THEIR PREVENTION AND CURE.

OME of our readers may deem us neglectful in having, as it were, left them to struggle through their bee-keeping novitiate without informing them how to avoid being stung by their docile but well-armed flock. Of course, having described the bee-dress, we have supposed that the apiarian was clad, if not "in complete steel," at least in the head-gear and gloves, which will render him invulnerable. The best safeguard from the anger of bees—as, indeed, from the malice of men—is a quiet and peaceable spirit. The apiarian will learn to handle his bees not only as "if he loved them,"—as the quaint angler says—but as if he fully believes that the bees love him. This they will do whenever he approaches and treats them gently. There are some cases of exception to this generally peaceable disposition of the bee; perchance a few bees are dyspeptic, and refuse to be pacified, let their master seek to bribe them never so wisely. Then, too, sometimes the bee-master himself may be dyspeptic, which the unerring olfactory sense of the bees speedily detects, and their anger is immediately aroused. Some few persons, owing to constitutional peculiarities in their breath or insensible perspiration, are objects of constant animosity with bees, who, by driving them from the apiary, are giving a physician's advice without charge for a fee. Some of the choicest perfumes used by ladies are offensive to bees; and one may feel very certain that the "fine puss gentleman," who disgusted the brave Hotspur with his "pouncet-box" and praise of "'parmaceti for an inward bruise," would have been speedily driven from an apiary in ignominious flight. Occasionally, even a skilful apiarian may inadvertently crush a single bee; such a mischance is detected by the community with much more facility than by any "crowner's quest," and their prompt verdict decrees the summary punishment of the offender. There would be much less fear of stings if it were always remembered that bees are never aggressive. "Defence, not defiance," is their motto. They scarcely ever attempt to sting when away from the hive, and very seldom indeed at the time of swarming, for then they are gorged with honey. When molested by angry bees, do not attempt to beat them off; the safest and best retreat is a green bush. Thrust your head into this, or if no such refuge be near, in an emergency, throw yourself on the ground, and, with face downwards, the bees will soon leave you.

Yet some people appear to think they must inevitably be stung if they meddle with bees and for their sakes it is needful to explain why it is that a sting is painful, and how the wound inflicted by the bee may be cured. Those familiar with the usual microscopic objects will know how marvellously delicate, and yet effective, is the mechanical structure of a bee's sting. (See page 46.) This weapon, as we see it with our naked eye—finer than a needle's point—is only the sheath, which lengthens or contracts like the tubes of a telescope. The dart, as before said, is barbed on each side, so that the bee, when very angry, is scarcely ever able to withdraw it, but

"Deems life itself to vengeance well resigned;
Dies on the wound, and leaves the sting behind."

There are, indeed, some happy mortals whose "blood such an even tenour keeps," that a bee-sting is to them simply a puncture, and nothing more. Dr. Bevan has suggested that lovers should subject themselves to the ordeal of a bee-sting, in order to prove, we suppose, that their temper is proof against "the stings and arrows of any outrageous fortune" that matrimony can bring.

It is the homoeopathically minute tincture of poison injected by the bee which causes inflammation. The first thing to do is, to remove the sting, which, even when detached from the bee, will continue to penetrate still further into the wound. Next, press the hollow point of a watch-key exactly over the place stung; this will express a considerable portion of the virus. Then dip the hand, or bathe the part with cold or tepid water, for the poison is volatile, and will thereby be dissipated to a great extent. On no account whatever should the part affected be rubbed; to do that will diffuse the poison and increase the inflammation. The specific remedy for a bee-sting is taught us by chemistry: the venom is an acid which an alkali will immediately neutralize when brought into contact with it. Spirits of hartshorn will generally be found effectual for the purpose, and should always be kept in an apiary. There are also several other remedies more or less effectual, according to the special constitution of the patient. A strong infusion of tobacco-water applied to the wound after the sting has been extracted is a specific for many persons; others find relief from the application of a sliced onion.

We have heard the remark from several who have kept bees for years, that the poison from a sting has little or no effect on them; after receiving many inflictions, their flesh appears to become so little affected, that the swelling and pain at one time experienced no longer trouble them.

POLLEN, OR FOOD FOR INFANT-BEES.

Bees, when fully grown, feed almost wholly on honey; but the larvae require for their development a more substantial kind of nourishment. Such solid fare is found by the bees in the pollen of flowers, a farina which contains some of those nitrogenous elements in which honey is deficient. The body of a worker-bee is covered with hairs, to which the pollen adheres when, by contact with the bee, it is rubbed from the anthers and stamens of flowers (see page 41). Dewy mornings or humid bowers suit the bees for the gathering of the pollen. If the atmosphere be too dry for kneading it into pellets, they roll themselves in the blossoms and trust to the good offices of the bees at home, who, on their return, brush off the farina into the cells intended for it. A portion of this "bee-bread" is taken at once by the "nursing bees," who are supposed to subject it to some change before offering it to the larvæ; but the greater part of the pollen is stored away and sealed over in the cells for future use. In April and May, the bees are frequently busy "all the day" in gathering pollen, and often one community of bees will collect about twenty pounds weight of "bee-bread" in one season.

One of the objects of the apiarian is to assist the bees in providing for the nurslings of the hive. A German pastor, Herr Dzierzon, first suggested the plan of providing the bees with "unbolted rye meal," as a substitute for the farina of flowers. He had observed that, in early spring, before the flowers were open, his bees had entered a neighbouring corn mill, from whence they returned laden with rye flour. Since his discovery, some keepers, in early spring, place either rye or wheat meal near the apiaries; to this artificial store the bees repair by thousands, and seem to rollick in the enjoyment of such plenty, many of them returning to the hive as dusty as millers. The object in thus supplying them is, that the brood may be rapidly brought forward, and early swarming induced. In this way, a few pounds of rye meal, at one penny per pound, may tend to the production of very many pounds of honey of twelve times the price.

In gathering pollen from flowers, bees are doing more than merely providing for their own community. Whilst humming through our gardens they are assisting to propagate our flowers, and their merry buzz in our orchards indicates that the blossoms of spring will in autumn fulfil their promise by abundance of fruit. In Mr. Darwin's remarkable work, "The Fertilization of Orchids," the mystery of the fructification of flowers is scientifically explained; but before the subject was so fully understood, it was quite believed that bees, in passing from flower to flower, performed some important service. Owners of fruit-trees have noticed, in a season generally unfavourable for the orchard, that if during only one fine forenoon the bees had spread freely amongst the blossoms of a particular tree, it would prove more fruitful than its fellows. On this account, the orchard is a good place for an apiary, for it seems that, more abundant the honey, more plentiful will be the fruit. Bees bear the fructifying matter from one sex of flowers to the other, but they confine their attention to one kind of flower during each excursion; and the careful observer may see how the colour of the pollen on the bodies of the bees will vary from yellow to red and brown, according to the kind of flowers from which it has been gathered. The gathering of pollen, its use by the nursing bees, and the storing of it in the cells, afford to the bee-keeper opportunity for observations of exceeding interest.

PROPOLIS, OR BEES' CEMENT.

The old notion that wax is gathered by bees from flowers, as they gather honey, has long since been set aside by the discoveries of Hornbostel and Huber. Wax is an oily substance, as described at page 45; but there is "a resinous substance, very tenacious and semi-transparent," which is indispensable for the bees as a cement wherewith to fix their combs and fortify their hives against intruders, and this is "propolis." The bees, in working the propolis, often soften it by blending it with a portion of wax; but they have to extract it in its natural state directly from the bark and buds of certain trees. The bark of the willow, the leaf-buds of the poplar and alder, and the unopened blossoms of the hollyhock are very usual sources of propolis. In the case of a new swarm, as bees must have this glue before they can begin to build their combs, they will resort to most unlikely places to obtain it. Sometimes they will enter a paint shop and attack the varnish, and it is said they have been seen to obtain propolis from the pitch and rigging of a ship. These circumstances afford intelligible hints to the apiarian, who, if his bees have not easy access to firs, poplars, or willows, will provide some glutinous or resinous matter which may serve for a substitute. The extraction of propolis costs the bees very considerable labour, which they should be relieved of as much as possible, in order to facilitate their great work of honey gathering. Bees choose the warmer part of the day during which to gather propolis, as then it does not so rapidly stiffen, frequently, when they arrive at the hive, it has become so hard that the other bees are scarcely able to gnaw it from their thighs.

With propolis bees fasten down their hives, stop up crevices to exclude moths and ants, and sometimes use it to narrow the entrance of their hives against the invasion of wasps. Extraordinary anecdotes are told of the prompt and ingenious use they make of this substance. Reaumur relates, that a snail having been observed by the bees oh the window of the hive, they proceeded to glue the shell to the glass, and there sealed down the intruder in hopeless durance. In another case, that of a slug, or snail without a shell, the bees, having slain it with their stings, were quite unable to remove it from the hive. With wonderful foresight, they then proceeded to secure their community from the noxious effects likely to arise from the decay of the carcase; and this they did by completely enveloping it with a coating of impervious varnish. Huish relates a similar occurrence in the case of a mouse caught in a hive by bees. Propolis yields benzoic acid, and contains some aromatic properties.

PASTURAGE FOR BEES.

"Bees work for man; and yet they never bruise
Their master's flower, but leave it, having done.
As fair as ever, and as fit for use."

Apiarians generally agree in the opinion that very little can be done in the way of providing any special forage for bees. Yet bee-fanciers are always interested in observing which are the flowers that the bees prefer; and there are certain well-established conclusions as to the kind of district and seasons which are the likeliest to produce a good honey-harvest. There is an old saying, that a country which produces the finest wool also yields the best honey; and a pastoral district is decidedly better than one under tillage. The principle of the matter is, that the bees are best suited with a long dry-season—an early spring, a hot summer, and a late autumn. As not one of these blessings can be commanded by the apiarian, his art must be applied to provide some mitigation of the injury suffered by the bees when the season is short or wet. For early spring, the crocus, the blue hepatica, and the violet all afford good supplies of pollen and honey, and, if cultivated near the apiary, will be of great service when the wild flowers are backward. All varieties of the willow and poplar furnish early supplies, of honey, as well as of the propolis of which we have spoken; the blossoms of the gooseberry and currant are very useful for the bees in May. Wet, when it enters flowers of any kind, prevents the tongue of the bee from reaching the secret source of honey. On this account, it is well to know, as does the bee, that the drooping blossoms of the raspberry escape the effect of the showers, and honey is gathered from them when other flowers are drenched within as well as without. For a similar reason, borage (Borago officinalis) is valuable for bees; and also because that plant continues to flower until the frosts set in. The honey both from raspberry blossoms and borage is very superior. Mr. Langstroth says, that "the precipitous and rocky lands of New England, which abound with the wild red raspberry, might be made almost as valuable as some of the vine-clad terraces of the mountain districts of Europe." The "golden rod" and also asters afford superior honey for autumn gathering. Dzierzon strongly recommends buck-wheat being sown in the winter stubbles on behalf of the bees, and he tries hard to persuade farmers that it is to their interest to cultivate it. It should be named that all the ordinary fruit blossoms, especially those of the apple, supply abundant store for bees.

It is, however, to wild or field flowers that the bee-master must chiefly look for the raw material on which his myriad artisans shall exert their skill. The white clover of the pasture[23]—the wild thyme on the hill—the heather on the moors—the furze and the broom on the sandy waste—offer exhaustless stores for a greater number of bees than can ever be located near them. Lime-trees, when in blossom, and mignonette are also' most valuable resources. There are also two or three peculiar sources of honey which one would not have suspected, as, for instance, the blossoms of the onion plant, of turnips, and, in still greater degree, the flower of the mustard plant.

[23] It is a good practice to induce the owners of adjacent fields to sow clover-seed.

In those districts of England where mustard seed is cultivated so extensively, it would be well worth while for the farmers to keep large colonies of bees. Another, but a very uncertain, source of honey is the "honeydew," which, in some seasons, appears in large quantities on the leaves of the oak, the lime, and some other trees.

It is important to mention that bees, in the principal breeding season, require a plentiful supply of water. Owing either to their carelessness or eagerness, they are frequently drowned when drinking from any large quantity of water; the bee-keeper should, therefore, place near the hives shallow vessels of water containing pebbles, on which the bees may alight to take frequent but temperate draughts.

THE LIGURIAN OR ITALIAN ALP BEE.

A new, or rather a re-discovered, variety of bee has recently been brought into practical use amongst apiarians in Germany and America, as well as in this country. The ordinary bee is the Apis mellifica of naturalists; the new kind is the Apis ligustica. It was also named "the Ligurian Bee" by the Marquis de Spinola, who found it in Piedmont in 1805; and he considered it to be the principal species known to the Greeks, who speak of the "best kind" of bee as being of a red colour. Leading apiarians agree in pronouncing these bees to be justly entitled to the high character given them. (See coloured engraving, Plate I., figs, 1, 2, 3.) Their special advantages are—greater fecundity of the queens, less irascibility, and a more handsome appearance, for, being of a golden colour, they are prettier than our black bees.

Tennyson most probably refers to these Ligurian bees in the following stanza of his beautiful poem "Eleanore":—

"Or the yellow banded bees,
Through half-open lattices,
Coming in the scented breeze,
Fed thee, a child, lying alone,
With whitest honey in fairy gardens culled:
A glorious child, dreaming alone
In silk soft folds, upon yielding down,
With the hum of swarming bees
Into dreamful slumbers lulled."

Our own experience with the Italian Alp bee enables us to corroborate the statements which have been made in favour of this new variety. We find the queens more prolific than those of the common kind, and the quantity of honey produced is greater. These two facts stand as cause and effect: the bees being multiplied more quickly, the store of honey is accumulated more rapidly, and the Italian bees consume, if anything, less food than the common, kind. When of pure Italian blood, these bees are, by some apiarians, thought to be hardier than our own. That they forage for stores with greater eagerness, and have little hesitation in paying visits to other hives, we can testify from our own observation. The following anecdote will illustrate their intrusive propensities:—Another bee-keeper living in the neighbourhood of our apiary, when inspecting our hives, observed the yellow bees: he exclaimed, "Now, I have found out where those strange-looking bees come from; for," said he, "these yellow-jackets are incessant visitors to my hives. I thought they were a species of wasp that had come to rob, and until now I have been unable to account for their appearance at the entrance of my hive, so that I have killed them by hundreds." This was not at all pleasing intelligence for us, and we trust that our neighbour has been more lenient to "the yellow-jackets" since his visit, for such summary capital punishment was wholly unmerited, because, when a bee is peaceably received (see page 127), it becomes naturalized, and works side by side with the others in its fresh abode. We are inclined to believe that more visiting takes place amongst bees of different hives than bee-keepers have been accustomed to suppose: where the Italian and black bees are kept near each other, the foreigners being conspicuous by their lighter colour, there is less difficulty in identifying them when at the entrance of other hives.

In the season of 1864, we had more honey from a Ligurian stock than from any one of our colonies of black bees. From this Ligurian hive we have taken a glass super containing 40 lbs. nett of honey, besides having drawn from it an artificial swarm; and, after all, it remains the strongest hive in our apiary.

The Baron Von Berlepsch and Pastor Dzierzon, who are probably the two most intelligent and skilful bee-keepers of Germany, award to the Italian a very decided preference over the common bees. The Baron says that he has found:—"1. That the Italian bees are less sensitive to cold than the common kind. 2. That their queens are more prolific. 3. That the colonies swarm earlier and more frequently. 4. That they are less apt to sting, 5. They are more industrious. 6. That they are more disposed to rob than common bees, and more courageous and active in self-defence. They strive, whenever opportunity offers, to force their way into colonies of common bees; but when strange bees attack their hives, they fight with great fierceness and with incredible adroitness."

It is said that the Italian bee can extract honey from some flowers which the common bee is unable to penetrate. For instance, the blossom tubes of the red clover being too deep for the probosces of the common bees, that flower is useless to them, although so plentiful; but, says Mr. Langstroth, the American apiarian, the Italian bee visits the red clover assiduously, and draws large quantities of honey from it.[24]

[24] This opinion is not held by the closest observer of Italian bees in England.

The introduction of this new variety of bee into England was through our agency. M. Hermann, a bee-cultivator at Tamins-by-Chur, Canton Grison, Switzerland, wrote to us on the 5th July, 1859, offering to supply us with Italian Alp queen-bees. This letter, or an extract from it, appeared in the current number of the Journal of Horticulture (then called the Cottage Gardener), a periodical that regularly opens its columns to apiarian subjects. Prior to this the Italian Alp, or, as it has been named, the "Ligurian" bee, was unknown in this country, except to a few naturalists. The letter referred to attracted the attention of that intelligent apiarian, T. W. Woodbury, Esq., now so well known as the "Devonshire Bee-Keeper." On the 19th of July, that is, a fortnight after M. Hermann's offer, we received a consignment of Italian Alp bees,—the first imported into England. With these Mr. Woodbury also received one queen-bee and a few workers, which he introduced into a hive of English bees from which the queen had been taken. His efforts were very successful, and "the spring of 1860 found him in possession of four Ligurianized stocks." His subsequent experience with the Italian Alp bee he has fully described in a communication to the Bath and West of England Agricultural Journal.

Subsequently, M. Hermann sent us a copy of his pamphlet, entitled "The Italian Alp Bee; or, the Gold-Mine of Husbandry," with the request that we should have it translated from the German, and that copies of it should be printed in the English language. The pamphlet was speedily published by us, and although singular as a literary production, it may be useful for the advanced apiarian.

Certainly the bees are partially of an orange or golden colour, and if one could believe the golden anticipations indulged in by M. Hermann respecting them, it would be sufficient to identify the Italian Alp bee as the species described by Hood in "Miss Kilmansegg";—those which dwelt in

"A golden hive, on a golden bank,
Where golden bees, by alchemical prank,
Gather gold instead of honey."

If we are correctly informed, poor Hermann himself has not yet greatly profited by the discovery of the mine. He appears to have quitted Switzerland, and travelled to America, as, by the latest accounts, we learn that he is now in the neighbourhood of Philadelphia, prosecuting his favourite calling with his accustomed ardour, among the apiaries of amateur bee-keepers. We are glad that M. Hermann is thus engaged, for report had reached us that he was dead—a report to which we gave currency in our first edition.

In the pamphlet referred to, M. Hermann gives the following description of what he insists on designating as Apis Helvetica:—"The yellow Italian Alp bee is a mountain insect; it is found between two mountain chains to the right and left of Lombardy and the Rhetian Alps, and comprises the whole territory of Tessins, Veltlin, and South-Graubunden. It thrives up to the height of 4,500 feet above the level of the sea, and appears to prefer the northern clime to the warmer, for in the south of Italy it is not found. The Alps are their native country, therefore they are called Yellow Alp-bees, or tame house-bees, in contradistinction to the black. European bees, whom we might call common forest bees, and who, on the slightest touch, fly like lightning into your face. (?)

"As all good and noble things in the world are more scarce than common ones, so there are more common black bees than of the noble yellow race, which latter inhabit only a very small piece of country, while the black ones are at home everywhere in Europe, and even in America."

Notwithstanding the emigration of M. Hermann from his native land, we shall in future be able to supply all bee-keepers who may wish to possess stocks of the genuine yellow Alpine bees.

The Italian varies but little from the common bees in its physical characteristics. The difference in appearance consists in the first rings of the abdomen, except the posterior edge, and the base of the third, being of an orange colour instead of a deep brown. These orange-coloured parts are transparent when closely examined with the sun shining on them. The Italian bees are more active than common bees when on the wing.

During the summers of 1859 and 1860 we had over from the Continent a great number of Ligurian queens; these were sent to all parts of the kingdom. We regret to say that but few were successfully united to English stocks. It requires a considerable amount of apiarian skill to accomplish the union,[25] so that we find by experience it is best to send out complete Ligurian stocks. This is particularly desirable now that the packing of whole hives is so easily accomplished by us with the aid of bars and frames. We have sent a great number of stocks to all parts by rail.

[25] The plan of uniting an Italian queen to an English stock is, first, to discover the queen by lifting out the frames, then take her away. This, we find, is best done by putting a wine-glass over her whilst on the comb, and, with a card a little larger than the diameter of the glass, very carefully and gently passed underneath, so as not to injure her majesty, she is thus, with a few of her subjects, made a prisoner, and easily removed. Be careful to cut away with a penknife all queen-cells. Let the hive remain queenless for twenty-four hours, and then place the Italian queen in a small wire cage, the openings of which must be large enough to enable her to receive the attentions of, and to communicate with, her new subjects, and, at the same time, to defend her from the animosity with which bees regard a stranger-queen, that has a scent different from that of her new home. Three or four days' intercourse through the wire meshes generally has a reconciling effect, and the Italian queen may be let go free to become the monarch of the hive. Sometimes, even with all this precaution, the foreigner is slain, so that it is well to preserve the black queen alive (with a few of her own subjects), by feeding and keeping her warm until the result is known. The wire cage containing the new queen is made of a flat shape, so as to be pressed down between the combs, against some honey-cells, in order that, should the inhabitants of the hive be inattentive, her majesty need not starve, but have food within reach. As it is generally considered that the queen is fed by working bees, it is always necessary to put about half a dozen of her own subjects in the cage with her, to pay her the requisite attention.

Mr. Woodbury, owing to his knowledge and skill in bee-keeping, was eminently successful in propagating the Ligurian bees first imported into this country; and we would recommend all who may be interested in the subject to peruse the interesting articles written by him in the Journal of Horticulture. He has shown great patience and energy by his labours in the rearing of queens and the multiplication of stocks, for which he merits all praise.

We now add to the testimonies already cited that of Mr. Woodbury, as to the superior qualities of Ligurian bees. The following is extracted from the paper contributed by him to the Bath and West of England Agricultural Journal:—"From my strongest Ligurian stock I took eight artificial swarms in the spring, besides depriving it of numerous brood-combs. Finding, in June, that the bees were collecting honey so fast that the queen could not find an empty cell in which to lay an egg, I was reluctantly compelled to put on a super. When this had been filled with 38 lbs. of the finest honeycomb,[26] I removed it, and as the stock-hive (a very large one) could not contain the multitude of bees which issued from it, I formed them into another very large artificial swarm. The foregoing facts speak for themselves; but as information on this point has been very generally asked, I have no hesitation in saying that I believe the Ligurian honey-bee infinitely superior in every respect to the only species that we have hitherto been acquainted with."

[26] This super was exhibited at our stand in the International Exhibition of 1862.

In a private letter received from Mr. Langstroth, he informs us that he has, in the season of 1865, bred over 300 Ligurian queens; these he has disseminated to various bee-masters on the American continent, and the united opinion of apiarians in that country is increasingly in favour of the decided advantage of the cultivation of the Italian bee.

After such emphatic testimony as this, corroborated, as it is, by many other observers, there seems every reason to expect that the Ligurian bee will gradually supersede the common kind throughout the United Kingdom. The honey-bee of the Holy Land is the Ligurian.

The Rev. H. B. Tristram, M.A., in his valuable book, "The Land of Israel," has the following interesting account of the bees in that country:—In Palestine bee-keeping is not an unimportant item of industry, and every house possesses a pile of bee-hives in its yard. Though similar in its habits, the hive-bee of Palestine is a different species to our own. "We never," he says, "found Apis mellifica, L., our domestic species, in the country, though it very possibly occurs in the north; but the common Holy Land insect, Apis ligustica, is amazingly abundant; both in hives, in rocks, and in old hollow, trees. It is smaller [?] than our bees, with brighter yellow, bands: on the thorax and abdomen, which, is rather wasp-like in shape, and with very long antennæ. In its habits, and especially in the immense population of neuters in each community, and in the drones cast forth in autumn, it resembles the other species. Its sting, also, is quite as sharp. The hives are very simple, consisting of large tubes of sun-dried mud, like gas-pipes, about four feet long, and closed with mud at each end, leaving only an aperture in the centre, large enough for two or three bees to, pass at a time. The insects appear to frequent both doors equally. The tubes are laid in rows horizontally, and piled in a pyramid. I counted one of these colonies, consisting of seventy-eight tubes, each a distinct hive. Coolness being the great object, the whole is thickly plastered over with mud, and covered with boughs, while a branch is stuck in the ground at each end, to assist the bees in alighting. At first we took these singular structures for ovens or hen-houses. The barbarous practice of destroying the swarms for their honey is unknown. When the hives are fully, the clay is removed from the ends of the pipes, and the honey extracted with an iron hook; those pieces of comb which contain young bees being carefully replaced, and the hives then closed up again. Everywhere during our journey we found honey was always to be purchased; and it is used by the natives for many culinary purposes, and especially for the preparation of sweet cakes. It has the delicate aromatic flavour of the thyme-scented honey of Hybla or Hymettus.

"But, however extensive are the bee-colonies of the villages, the number of wild bees of the same species is far greater. The innumerable fissures, and clefts of the limestone rocks, which everywhere flank the valleys, afford in their recesses secure shelter for any number of swarms; and many of the Bedouin, particularly in the wilderness of Judæea, obtain: the subsistence by bee-hunting, bringing into Jerusalem jars of that wild, honey on which John the Baptist fed in the wilderness, and which Jonathan had long before unwittingly tasted, when the comb had dropped on the ground from the hollow tree in which it was suspended. The visitor to the Wady Kurn, when he sees the busy multitudes of bees about its cliffs, cannot but recall to mind the promise, 'With honey out of the stony rock would I have satisfied thee.' There is no epithet of the Land of Promise more true to the letter, even to the present day, than this, that it was 'a land flowing with milk and honey."

Does not evidence such as this point to the conclusion that the bees which Sampson found in the carcase of the lion were Ligurian; and may we not further speculate that the ribs of the carcase constituted the first bar-hive? Surely, "there is no new thing under the sun."

LIVING BEES AT THE INTERNATIONAL EXHIBITION OF 1862, SENDING BEES TO AUSTRALIA, &c.

The engraving represents our stand in the Agricultural Department of the International Exhibition of 1862. The space granted us in the World's Great Fair was somewhat limited; but we were able to exhibit a tolerably complete stock of apiarian apparatus, and all the more important bee-hives. Amongst these was an unicomb hive stocked with the Yellow Alpine or "Ligurian" bee. This was an object of great attention, and daily hundreds of visitors flocked round our stand, in order to watch the movements of the Italian queen, with her gay and busy subjects. The entrance-way for the bees being in the "Open Court," to which all visitors had access, it was necessary to place the hive in an elevated position, so as for it to be beyond the reach of incautious passers-by, and to obviate any chance of annoyance to the vast crowds of people continually around.

Among others who took a deep interest in our exhibition was Mr. Edward Wilson, President of the Acclimatisation Society of Victoria. This gentleman requested us to pack four stocks of the Ligurian bees for conveyance to Melbourne. With the assistance of Mr. Woodbury—whose aid was, indeed, essential—these stocks were sent off on the 25th of September, 1862, by the steam ship Alhambra, so as to arrive at the colony during the Austral summer. The hives were Woodbury frame hives, having ample space and ventilation, as well as the means of supplying water to their inmates during the voyage; there was, also, a sufficient store of honey to last until the following March. The bees arrived at Melbourne, where they were released after an imprisonment of seventy-nine days, and have since rapidly multiplied, the climate and pasturage of Australia greatly favouring the increase of this superior variety of the bee.

Mr. Wilson was so well pleased with the careful manner in which these stocks were fitted out for their voyage across the seas, that he subsequently instructed us to prepare him three more hives, which were sent out in a sailing vessel. Owing to the mismanagement of the water supply during the voyage, only one stock survived in this instance. Mr. Wilson informs us that one of these hives contained 136 lbs. of honey, on the 25th of December, 1864 (Midsummer in Australia).

Upwards of twenty years ago, we sent a Nutt's hive stocked with bees to New Zealand. We then adopted the plan of fixing the hive in a meat safe, so that the bees could fly about a little, and also cleanse the hive of their dead, for bees are very attentive to sanitary arrangements; they always remove the dead ones from their midst, and do not void excrement within the hive.

When bees are shut up in their hives too long, even with adequate ventilation, they are apt to be attacked by a disease called by apiarians dysentery. Sometimes, when confined by the unfavourableness of the weather in winter, or the lateness of spring, this disease produces serious mischief amongst the bees. Various remedies have been recommended; but we believe, the best is to see that there is wholesome food within the hive, and plenty of it, and, when fine weather returns, the health of the bees will return with it. Dampness of the hives, and too late feeding in the autumn, are also frequent causes of this disease.

BEE-KEEPING IN LONDON.

There are many persons now in this noisy city pent, who frequently remember the days of childhood, when, among pastures of clover, or amidst flowery heath and woodlands, they listened to the cheerful hum of bees. Partly from a desire to revive these old associations, and also from a natural liking for the tendance of living creatures, such persons would be glad to keep bees if they thought it possible to do so in London or its suburbs with any chance of success. We do not wonder that many should doubt even the possibility of bees feeding themselves amidst such an "endless meal of brick;" but we can easily prove that bees, if not placed too near to smoky chimneys, are able to produce honey, both for themselves and for their masters. To make this plain, we will mention some special instances of metropolitan bee-keeping.

About ninety years ago, a Mr. Wildman kept a bee-house and honey warehouse, near to Middle Row, Holborn. He was not only a tradesman, but was also the apiarian of his day. He kept hives of thriving bees on the roof of his house in Holborn, and many of the nobility and gentry used to mount thither, in order to inspect the apiary. At that period, St. Pancras was a "village two miles north-west of London," and what is now the Regent's Park was open country. It was then much easier for London bees to find their favourite forage, but Mr. Wildman believed that his hives were filled with stores from a considerable distance. Whilst enjoying his country rambles on Hampstead Heath, he had a shrewd suspicion that many of the bees he there observed gathering honey were labourers from his own apiary. In order to identify his own flock amongst the rest, he hit upon a homely but very effective expedient. Having borrowed Mrs. Wildman's "dredging box," he stationed himself near the entrance of his hives, and gently dusted his bees with flour as they issued forth. He then betook himself to Hampstead, where he found his previous surmise confirmed, for there were numbers of his bees in their livery of white.

Wildman became noted for the remarkable control he obtained over his bees, many instances of which he exhibited before the public. Several of his operations with them were regarded as feats of legerdemain by the uninitiated, as when he appeared before King George III., with a swarm of bees hanging in festoons from his chin, or suspended in a cluster at arm's length. The Journal of Horticulture recently, in alluding to Wildman, gives the following particulars as to his performances:—

"Near the 'Three Hats,' Islington, was a place of popular entertainment called 'Dobney's Tea Gardens,' kept by Mrs. Ann Dobney. These gardens occupied the ground between White Lion Street and Winchester Place, and were established as far back as 1728. In 1771, the house was taken for a short time as a boarding school; but it was soon changed to its original purpose as a place of amusement, for, in 1772, Daniel Wildman exhibited bees here. This is a copy of the advertisement:—

"'June 20, 1772. Exhibition of bees on horseback! at the Jubilee Gardens, Islington (late Dobney's), this and every evening, until further notice (wet evenings excepted).

"'The celebrated Daniel Wildman will exhibit several new and amazing experiments, never attempted by any man in this or any other kingdom before. The rider standing upright, one foot on the saddle and one on the neck, with a mask of bees on his head and face. He also rides standing upright on the saddle with the bridle in his mouth, and, by firing a pistol, makes one part of the bees march over the table, and the other swarm in the air and return to their hive again, with other performances too tedious to insert. The doors open at six; to begin at a quarter before seven. Admittance:—Box and gallery, 2s.; the other seats, 1s.'"

The secret of Wildman's skilful manipulation is well understood now; it consisted in a careful holding and disposal of the queen, together with confidence in the generally inoffensive disposition of bees. Dr. Evans, whom we have often quoted for his correct information in apiarian matters, thus speaks of his feats:—

"Such was the spell which, round a Wildman's arm,
Twined in dark wreaths the fascinated swarm;
Bright o'er his breast the glittering legions led,
Or with a living garland bound his head.
His dextrous hand, with firm, yet hurtless hold,
Could seize the chief, known by her scales of gold,
Prune, 'mid the wondering train, her filmy wing,
Or o'er her folds the silken fetter fling."

To recur to our subject. After the days of Wildman, our own establishment in Holborn became widely known for bee-hives and honey. Although we never attempted to start a London apiary at all approaching in extent that of our predecessor, we have occasionally kept bees on the house-top, both in Holborn and Regent Street. At each of those situations, we have noticed that the bees bring "pollen" as well as honey into their hives. Last summer, there was brought under our notice an illustration of the acuteness of the scent of bees and of their diligent search for food, proving, too, that if sweets can be obtained even from unusual sources, the bees will find them out. A poor woman, who, at the comer of an adjacent street, vends "brandy balls," "toffee," "rock," and other saccharine compounds—all well known to and appreciated by most juveniles,—used to receive frequent visits from our bees. Their visits to the old dame's domain were at first rather interesting, and if the few pioneers who had the sagacity to find such a store had kept the secret only to themselves, their company would not have been objected to. Such selfish policy does not, however, accord with the social instinct of bees, and these soon informed their companions of the good fortune provided for them in an archipelago of sugar islands. Day by day the swarms of these uninvited visitors increased, until all legitimate customers were beaten off; and the old dame had to see, not only her hope of gain destroyed, but her stock of "goodies" sensibly diminishing by the thefts of these brigands of the air. She could not, or dare not attempt to, drive the intruders away, so made diligent inquiry as to where the robbers were harboured. Having traced them to our establishment in Regent Street, she came to implore of us to move the bees if possible, or she would have to move her stall, and so lose her "connection" in the "toffee" and "rock" trade. Wishing not to hinder the poor woman in gaining her livelihood, we decided on removing our bees into the country.

It is difficult to assign an exact limit to the distance that bees will go in search of honey-yielding blossoms. It has been proved by various experiments that they will fly, say, five or six miles, if the supplies are scanty within a shorter radius; but bees well understand that first of all economies, the saving of time, and if they can find forage near at hand, they prefer it. Hence, other things being equal, the quantity of honey stored will be in proportion to the contiguity of good pasturage. In this way it is that the systematic removal of hives, as practised in many districts, has such a notable effect on the honey harvest.

A novel sight for Londoners to witness occurred in June, 1865. A swarm, having been ordered to be sent into the country the following morning, was temporarily placed on the leads at the back of our house, 149, Regent Street. The sun shining hot on the hive, or some other cause, induced the inmates to decamp. A passer-by called in to inform us that some bees had arrested the progress of a cab. We at once conjectured that they were those of our missing swarm, the absence of which had previously puzzled us not a little; so we sent our man with a straw-hive to bring the truants back, which he succeeded in doing, followed to the door by a crowd, who were amazed at the sight of the "'oney-bees," as the Cockney lads called them. Cabby had to be compensated for the loss of his fare, for the affrighted passengers had left him in a hurry, so that, altogether, no little commotion was caused—a crowd so soon collects in London streets. Among the lookers-on appears to have been a reporter from the Times newspaper, for, two days afterwards, the following paragraph appeared in the leading journal:—