exit they might find, then cut a small square hole lower down, over which the escape now lies. In two days every bee in the house was using my new hole as an entrance; then I put on the escape, placing my hive in position at the same time. I do not know how the Porter works; but I must say the bees simply fell through this one of mine. They just crowded one another out through this spiral spring flapper I made. Any bee that once crawled into the tin was forced bodily out. I can move the flapper out by blowing on it, but it opens out only. No bee ever crawled back.

Now for the queer part:

Those bees accepted a hive without eggs, bees, or brood. They had foundation starters only. They built comb, filling it with honey. There were no laying workers among them, and no queen, as I ascertained later, before introducing an Italian queen.

They were three weeks without a queen, and simply went crazy with joy when I gave them their new mother. She was of good quality, laying on the second day after coming through the mail. They start at daylight, working like mad, and I can say in all sincerity that, during the past two days, those same bees have been flying at work in a steady rain which has left large puddles everywhere one looks.

The whole business looks queer to me as they come in all wet with their wings spread wide as they walk-no stopping them. I wish I had about 100 colonies of such bees. I'd stop driving automobiles.

San Mateo, Cal., Sept. 7.

BEES BUILDING WORDS IN COMB HONEY

BY I. HOPKINS

In the August 15th issue, page 515, you ask for articles on the method of making the bees build letters in comb. The accompanying photo shows the words "State Apiary" built by the bees we had in the government model apiary, established a few years ago at our international exhibition. The body of the photo is an exhibit of a portion of the honey raised at the model apiary; but owing to the photographer not using a color-screen on his lens the ambercolored honey in the glass jars came out black like ink.

The case over the exhibit contains the words mentioned, in comb honey. The case was nine feet long, and the words occupied a length of nearly eight feet. At each end of the case is a bell glass filled with comb honey, built by the bees also. Each letter

was eight inches in height and two inches broad in the stroke.

HOW THE LETTERS WERE ARRANGED.

First of all, I made frames one inch wide out of quarter-inch stuff, similar to brood frames. I then obtained some bare half inch well - seasoned boards, screwed them together, and cut them to fit the frames. They were then handed over to a man having a fret-saw, to cut out the letters right through the two boards. Each frame afforded space for two letters. The boards were next taken apart, and a sheet of foundation laid between the two boards, and the latter screwed together again. Now, the only places within the frames the bees could build when they were in place was where the letters were cut out on each side of the boards.

HOW TO GET THE LETTERS BUILT OUT QUICKLY

The quicker the letters are built, the better appearance they will have. For this purpose, choose extra strong two or three story colonies, and see that the queen is confined to the brood-chamber with an excluder above the frames. Place a couple of frames of lettering in the center of the top box immediately above the brood-chamber, with one frame of comb between, and remove them directly. The comb in the letters are capped over. The lettering should be done when the honey-flow is fully on. My first attempt was made over thirty

years ago.

Auckland, N. Z., Sept. 16.

WINTER CASES MADE OF COFFEE-BOXES

BY JAMES WOODZELL

The picture shows a corner of my apiary of 38 colonies, all of which are in eightframe dovetailed hives. Grapevines on three sides, and a wood-house and dairy on the other side, give considerable protection from cold winds.

I winter my bees on their summer stands. I take coffee-boxes, such as are used for Lion's or Arbuckle's 100-lb. packages, and cut off the bottoms and tops. Then I cut out three inches from the bottom of one end and nail the piece back in such a way as to make a shelf over the entrance. I set this prepared box over the hive, and thus have about three inches of space on all sides, and nearly as much over the top, which I fill with hay. The tops and bottoms of the boxes make the covers, which are used in the summer for shade-boards as shown in the engraving. I nail four pieces of narrow boards together, making a framework on which are nailed the top-boards of the coffee-box. Then I cover the whole thing with cheap felt roofing. These covers telescope over the winter cases. By using these cases I have had very little winter

loss.

My hive-stands are made by nailing teninch legs on a square framework made of four narrow boards, and covering this with one-inch boards for a top.

For my surplus honey I use shallow extracting supers, and cut the honey from the frames in four pieces, weighing approximately one pound each. I have no trouble in disposing of all of it at 20 cts. per pound.

Webster Springs, W. Va.

GRANDPA NICKEL

BY MRS. MARY ROBISON

I am sending you a picture of grandpa Nickel, a dear lover of GLEANINGS. He is very much interested in all of its articles, especially in the Temperance and Our Homes departments. He is a retired farmer, and keeps a small apiary for pastime and pleasure. His honey, of which he always has a good supply, he divides among his children, grandchildren, and friends. He does not know I am sending his picture, and I want to surprise him. Grandpa Nickel is my father.

Concord, Ill.

Grandpa Nickel among his bees, Concord, Ill.

EXPERIENCES OF A FOUL-BROOD INSPECTOR Different Types of Beekeepers Met

BY J. E. CRANE

Continued from page 815, Dec. 15. There is reason to believe that there are some persons who are not fond of seeing an inspector. One man told me that last spring the cattle commissioner condemned and killed most of his cows, and now I had come to kill his bees, and he seemed to feel as though his lot were a hard one.

A good lady was afraid the inspector would open her hives and set the bees to robbing (as no honey was coming in), make them cross, and that they would sting the domestic animals and even poultry, causing any amount of mischief. She reasoned well, only she did not know the inspector. (One man told me that last year he lost 75 turkeys by the bees stinging them to death. I can not vouch for the truth of his story; but I think there may be some truth in it, as I believe his bees were the crossest I have ever seen.) But there was no disease among this woman's bees. On the contrary, I found that her hives had had the nicest care, and her surplus combs were the finest I had seen anywhere. I have sometimes thought that beekeeping is not adapted to women, nor women adapted to keeping bees; but since I have seen the success of this woman, and of others whom I might mention, I have decided that it might be well to revise my opinion on the subject.

One woman went with her husband to look over the bees on a hot summer day. He had on a thick coat, gloves, and veil to protect him from stings, while she walked around fearlessly with bare hands and

arms.

Still another woman, the mother of five small children, I found helping her grandfather, who was eighty-three years of age, and nearly blind, caring for a large yard of bees. With me she looked through the entire yard to find any diseased colonies. She told me she was in perfect health, and enjoyed the outdoor life.

An inspector has many opportunities to receive as well as to give instructions. In going around among all sorts of beekeepers he finds many persons who excite his pity or sympathy. One of these, an old man with a farm and a few bees, appeared feeble, and had but one hand. I have seen many one-armed people, but never before one that appealed to me as he did. How could he care for his bees with but one hand? I often find myself wishing I had three when I am working with them.

One woman whose bees I went to inspect lived in an old house. Her clothes were in rags, and were thrown carelessly upon her person. Her house was in the utmost disorder. She seemed to think I had some sinister motive in asking her name, and would not tell me. I have since wondered if some Christian woman could not go to her, carrying some of the comforts of life, and take her hand and tell her that the good Lord loves and cares for her, and bring some light, cheer, and hope into her desolate abode.

And yet another. His neighbor carried me over to see him, and told me on the way that he was somewhat cranky. On reaching the place he introduced me to him. I offered him my hand, which he refused, saying, as he drew back, "I don't know you, sir." As I looked into his face and saw the wild, strange expression, I recognized that he was insane. Yet he was living alone, caring for himself. He had a good garden, and one of the largest yards of bees in the town. I suggested looking at his bees. He told me it was unnecessary. He knew all about bees, and said that they had no disease. Nothing I could say would convince him; but I admired his large patch of fragrant onions without a weed; his thrifty turnips, and his potatoes so free from beetles. He slowly relaxed; and while his neighbor engaged him in conversation on the value of different varieties of potatoes I managed to look into several of his weaker colonies where disease would be most likely to show itself if present. When I was ready to leave he bade me good-by with a hearty hand-shake, and asked me to come again. How sad to see the marvelous mechanism of the human body so disordered as to give the mind distorted thoughts and views of life!

A LARVA FOUND WITH ITS HEAD AT THE BOTTOM OF THE CELL.

In looking over brood constantly for disease I have found that one becomes more observing, and sees some things he never saw before. Last winter, in giving a talk on bees before a Young Men's Christian Association meeting I told them that in all my experience I had never known a young larva to spin a cocoon and to change from the larval state to a perfect bee with the head toward the bottom of the cell, possibly because larvæ instinctively sleep with their heads in the direction of the mouth of the cell, ready to walk right out when mature. This season, however, I saw one such case, and I had the pleasure of helping the little witless thing from its cell, rear end first.

I wonder if it will know enough when it gets to work to come home when it rains.

ANOTHER BROOD DISEASE.

There are diseases that afflict the larvæ of bees, other than foul brood; and I have been surprised to find how general one of these is. It seems to be everywhere; and, while not very destructive, it should be studied, and, if possible, some remedy found for it. I sent a sample of it to Washington, and was informed that I need have no anxiety about it. The disease seems to kill the larvæ after they are sealed up, and at almost the same time, as they all look alike when the cell is uncapped. These dead larvæ do not decay in the cell as those do that die from American foul brood, but retain their form, and seem to dry up when they are removed by the mature bees. I observed it several years ago, and in some cases it was very bad-almost every larva in large patches dying, and then it would disappear and I would scarcely see a cell of it for two or three years. While it is not so bad as foul brood, the loss in the aggregate is considerable.

SHAKING INTO A BOX FIRST.

I have noticed that, as a rule, the advice given to beekeepers who have foul brood is to shake their bees upon frames, these to be taken away in four days, and a clean hive given them. After a little experience I have advised shaking into the brood-box or any other box for the first time, and after four days giving frames of foundation. This has seemed to work well, and I have failed to hear of a single case where disease has reappeared because the old broodchamber was used without being disinfected or burned out. It seems well to make it just as easy as possible, within the bounds of safety, for beekeepers who have diseased colonies. I have been more careful with inexperienced beekeepers than with those of more experience. Middlebury, Vt.

To be continued.

BEEKEEPING TAUGHT IN PUBLIC SCHOOLS

BY JOSEPH TINSLEY

In GLEANINGS for Nov. 1 I notice Dr. E. F. Bigelow refers to his experiment of teaching beekeeping to boys who, he says, are the sons of wealthy parents. I am pleased to inform your readers that we in Staffordshire are a great way in front of this. We have actually ten public elementary schools where beekeeping forms part of the school curriculum. The schools selected for this experiment were purely rural