1891 - Mr. Love's Long Life With Bees

This article from the British Bee Journal & Bee-keepers Adviser celebrates the good man, John Love, as a beekeeper. I have been getting an article about him as a famous grower of pinks when I got lured away by bee. Pinks are coming!   I have added illustrations when I was curious to know about something (if I could find any).  I would have liked Mr. Love as a neighbor.

OUR PROMINENT BEE-KEEPERS.

No. 30—MR. JOHN LOVE.

We have much pleasure in giving this week the portrait and a biographical sketch of the veteran bee-keeper, Mr. John Love.  Born in the village of Kilbarchan, Renfrewshire, on 10th April, 1806, bred a hand-loom weaver, as were his father and grandfather, three Johns in line, he maybe said to have been a born beekeeper, as he remembers a saying of his father's -that in the old garden the hum of the bee had been heard without a break for sixty years. 

Of middle height, fair complexion, with high colour, the fringe of pretty, fair, silky hair below his wide-awake behind, this 'yellow-haired laddie' of eighty-five summers is frequently taken by the stranger as wearing on to seventy.

If the sentence above made you read it twice, be it known that "The wide-awake, a broad-brimmed felt hat with a lowish crown, was a countryman's hat". (I thank the source!  I remember acutely doing research in pre-computer days. I think the magic of the web will never dull for me.) 

Still remarkably nimble and fleet of foot, of a very amiable disposition, his laugh is as nappy and jubilant now as I believe it to have been when, a boy of nine, he remembers listening to accounts read from the papers of the glorious victory of Waterloo.   For many years an exemplary Presbyterian elder, growing deafness (his only infirmity) prevents him now from performing all the duties of the office.   So healthy has he been that only once during his
long life, for a fever, has he required medical advice.   He married, 12th August, 1833, Mary Climie, daughter of a weaver's agent in his own village, and has been blessed by a numerous offspring.

A few years after his marriage the subject of our sketch moved to Mount Pleasant, beautifully situated on rising ground above the village, and occupied jointly with his brother-in-law, the upper flat as their dwelling  house — workshops below, a good garden behind. 

The passer-by could not but be attracted by the bee-house, a neat model of a two-storied dwelling-house, complete to the sweep on the chimney.  The numerous odd hives of the two dwellings were cosily placed in sheltered nooks under the many crafted fruit-trees. The floral display of roses, herbaceous plants, &c. was very fine but in their season the bed of pinks was the great attraction. 

Mr. Love for many years was the acknowledged Scottish champion 'pink' grower. Upstairs his stuffed specimens of natural history reflected great credit on our friend's taste and neathandedness in another direction. 

It has been recorded in these pages long ago, when the Italian bee was newly imported, how a petition was couched in respectable verse from the Kilbarchan fraternity for leave to inspect the new bee: the writer of it was Mr. Robert Climie, Mr. Love's brother-in-law. 

Alas! that deputation has all passed away save Mr. Love.  

Curious how the poetic vein descends, coming out in the children and grandchildren of Mr. Love.  Robert Climie's end, some twenty years ago, was very affecting.  He was invited over to a neighbouring village to examine the bees of a married daughter of Mr. Love.  A non-smoker himself, he administered a whiff of the pipe, said to his niece he felt sick, and would never touch that vile pipe again, retiring to an inner room, where she in a little while found him kneeling by the sofa in prayer, in which posture his gentle spirit passed away.  The funeral was largely attended, service in the open air, a beautiful spring day, the woods of Glentyan across the strath, and the village nestling in the hollow, bees out in force—very touching to beekeepers present to see his little favourites hover over the pall and odd ones resting on it, as if taking a long farewell of the old master ere his remains were borne away.

Time brings its changes, the kindly old Laird dies, the estate is sold, and Mr. Love after an occupancy of thirty-eight years has to move his looms into the smoky atmosphere of the town of Paisley, where he and an unmarried daughter bravely struggle on, plying their shuttles side by side.  In the interim, first the partner of his joys and sorrows, then his youngest and fairest flower, droop and die.  Gladly he accepts an offer to take charge of a cottage and pony, grow and dispose of a large fruit-garden crop in the island of Bute.  Rarely do we find a man at seventy-six so cheerily abandon his life-work, and begin to earn his bread by his hobby.

In the autumn of that year, 1881, the writer sailed to Bute and made the acquaintance of that steep ascent, the serpentine road, resting to gaze on the beauty of the grand prospect: Rothesay Bay at our feet, Joward Castle on the opposite shore, the glassy smoothness of the far reaches of the Kyles of Bute in the rugged distance.

The hill-top is at last gained; there, bareheaded as usual, busy among his strawberries, stands our hero. The joy at meeting!  'Why, John, you look like an old eagle perched on this hill-top!'  The bees and honey prospects are discussed, and the tremendous crop on his gifted young Caledonian plum-trees presented by John; a branch promised and hamper followed. 

By return of post the hit-off thanks :—

"Through wind and rain your basket came
     In safety—it is here.
'Twas careful hands that packed it
    With its richly-laden store. 

I never can repay you,    But I thank you o'er and o'er, For there are deeds of friendship    Words may not all impart,Their sterling worth, as deep they sink   Into our inmost heart. 

Then, once again I thank you    From here, my mountain home,And, one and all, I wish you joy   In the year that is to come.'

The Stewarton: The Hive for the
busy man

I gave him an introduction to my good friend Miss Macdonell, of Glengarry, and he assisted her with her bees, and that lady, in the kindest manner possible, presented him with a couple of swarms, and he was once more into stock, whose descendants he still carefully preserves.  

The above lady takes an enthusiastic interest in the bee and the silkworm.  

A handsome mahogany rotating observatory ornaments her drawing room, and the supers from her gigantic Stewartons overtopped everything at the Rothesay Exhibition. 

She also takes a warm interest in the cause of religion and education, in maintaining the purity of worship in the National Church;  is thoroughly practical, projected and supports an Initiatory School where poor boys are taught the ground-work of religion, besides the ability to sew on buttons or patches on their jackets.   

detail; source

At the School Board she has sat for nearly six years, the only lady, and heroically defends her position with as much determination as did her illustrious uncle the gates of Hougoumont at Waterloo.

Three verses are extracted from a letter or Mr. Love's on another occasion:—

'I will whisper my tale to the Yule-log   As I muse in its ruddy glow,As here again comes Christmas,   With its holly and mistletoe.

                                *****

'Tes! that is the tale I whisper,   As I muse in the firelight glow,As I sit, in the hush of the evening.
  And think on long ago; 

'On the happy home of my childhood,   On the friends I held so dear:One by one they have left us,
   They are no longer here.'

                                  *****   

After a five years' residence in Bute he came back to Kilbarchan, and the bees and pinks are safely flitted to his present garden.  After the labours of the week are over, it is a much 

anticipated pleasure on the Saturday half-holiday, skimming over the four miles that part our dwellings.  The newest ideas in bee-keeping are discussed, the last bed of pinks planted by himself seen to, and the latest-come herbaceous plant criticized; and if in autumn the fruit-crop is peculiarly interesting — those 'Bouquet trees, the waxy purity of the white 'celestial' apple flanked on either side, same tree, by branches of the scarlet or striped varieties successively.  

He often ejaculates,  "It bates a!"  

How comes such heavy crops? Your good grafting and the fertilizing powers of our little friends, the bees?  
 "Nae doot, nae doot!"

One fine Saturday afternoon autumn was a twelvemonth, we were favoured by a visit from 'Our Editor,' pointing out to him how  "history repeats itself", our old Japanese lion, worshipped for 3000 years, had been peopled that season by a colony of humble-bees as Samson's was, the subject of our sketch arrived  and the pleasure of that introduction he will never forget.

— A Renfrewshire Bee-keeper

Bee Swarm Humor from One Hundred Years Ago

Nothing much has changed when it comes to dealing with swarms!

1889 - A Visit to Mr. Manum's Marvelous Addison County Apiary!

It is always a joy to encounter someone who excels at some worthy pursuit!  Mr. Manum was one of these individuals and his contributions to apiarists were considerable.  A. E. Manum was a more scientific beekeeper than many of his contemporaries.

www.addisoncounty.com

Addison County, Vermont, celebrated for its pure-bred Merino sheep and horses, also stands high as a honey producing region. The heavy clay soil favors an abundant growth of white clover, which usually yields large quantities of the finest honey. Basswood trees also abound. The surplus honey yield being of short duration and very heavy, allows quick work by the bees, which insures delicate white comb and, with good management, completely filled boxes. This, with its fine quality, gives Addison comb honey its justly-deserved reputation.

 Numerous farmers and a few specialists scattered about the county keep bees. In some cases 200 colonies are kept in one yard with good results, while from forty to 100 is the usual number. Many with no love for the pursuit, but who have engaged in it simply for the dollars and cents to be made by following the instructions of leading bee masters, have found it as profitable or more so than any other branch of their farm work, and now market their ton or two of comb honey yearly. The specialists who run a number of large yards in different locations and make it their principal business, have also been successful in securing from ten to twenty tons of honey in a single good season.

The most extensive apiarist in this section and probably the one having the largest number of colonies in New England is A. E. Manum.  He commenced in 1870 with two colonies and, although like other beekeepers he soon found that a good season was usually followed by a poor one, his success led him to extend the business, and in the spring of 1885 he had in five different yards 470 colonies. That season was an unusual one, and he obtained from them nineteen tons of comb honey and three tons of extracted honey, and an increase in bees, making 850 colonies in the fall.  This large crop was nearly all gathered in twelve days, and one of the best colonies on scales at Yard No. 2, while working on basswood, gathered in one day thirty-three pounds and in four days 124 pounds. The largest yield from one hive was 228 pounds of comb honey. His greatest yield in 1883 was 312 pounds of comb honey from the bees in one hive.

The following illustration and indented description are NOT from this article.  I thought they added to it, however.

No. 1.—This picture shows A. E. Manum's sidehill apiary. This spot was selected because the ground is descending, thus affording good drainage and Mr. Manum thinks the bees can locate their hives better in such a place, especially the young queens when they go out to mate; and as every hive can be seen from the honey-house, the attendant can be watching for swarms while working inside. It must not be supposed that this hill is very steep, as the picture would lead one to think, as the descent is very slight; neither are the hives arranged on the amphitheater plan, but are set In straight rows. Mr. Manum has three apiaries on level ground, and he finds the water from melting snow often makes it too damp for the bees; hence his preference for a slope.

 As an offset to this and the previous good years, each season since 1885 has been a poor one, and his bees have not paid expenses. With a few exceptions in favored localities, beekeepers everywhere have fared the same, although three such poor seasons in succession are unparalleled in the history of the industry in this country. 

Mr. Manum’s out-apiaries are from two to sixteen miles from the home yard, and the accompanying engravings present an idea of their arrangement and surroundings. The long rows of symmetrical and neatly-painted hives covering a hillside or appearing from among the trees of an orchard  arrest attention and excite interest. In the lower left-hand corner is a view in the home apiary at swarming time, showing three swarms clustered on catchers, and Mr. Manum about to carry one to its new hive. The upper picture is a view of the Sincon apiary, on Yard No. 6, now moved to a more favorable location; and in the lower right-hand corner is a winter scene at the home apiary. 

At the start Mr. Manum tried all the different hives and studied and experimented to get the best for practical work. By combining, modifying and inventing new features he turned out that which met his ideas and which with a system of management suited to it is now used in all his apiaries and many others. 

The hive is double-walled and consists of a stand, inner hive 0r brood chamber and an outer case (see Figs. 2 and 3). 

The entrance is through the stand underneath the brood chamber and cannot be clogged by snow, is protected from rain, and by means of a slide can be graduated from two inches long by three-eighths of an inch wide in winter to fourteen inches long by two inches wide—the full summer width when the slide is removed. 

The outer case is movable and is in three separate sections. The roof is of clapboards. In each gable is a two-inch auger hole for ventilation. This is protected by a wire cloth funnel projecting outward, which allows the bees to leave one at a time, but not to enter. This is an important proviso when bees are hastily shut in or when surplus honey is removed. The three inch space between the walls is filled with chaff or sawdust, which is allowed to remain winter and summer. When damp, it can be readily replaced. Having so many loose parts, the hive can be moved without heavy lifting, and when properly packed is sufficient protection from New England winters. The hive stands rest on two lengths of joist to keep them off the ground, and are set perfectly level. Hives once located are not afterward moved unless carried away from the yard.

The brood chamber is covered by a board, when the sections for honey are not in place, and contains twelve hanging frames twelve inches long by nine-and-one-half inches deep. The surplus arrangement consists of cases, at one end of which are a follower and wood screw by which the sections are tightly clamped together. Each section is supplied with a full sheet of foundation and between each row are placed thin wood separators to insure perfect combs. 

Figure 4 shows a Crane clamp of seven two-pound sections, with the separaters. 

Figure 5 illustrates the Bristol clamp of sixteen one-pound sections, one of which is raised and shows the sheet of foundation in place. 

Mr. Manum was probably the first to make a white poplar dovetailed section, which is not so much used. 

Previous to this they were of pine, and made to nail. This section. put together with glue, is not only the strongest but the neatest section in use. 

Two of the Bristol clamps cover the brood chamber and can be tiered up as high as desired. 

Figure 3 shows the hive with the outer case removed and three Crane clamps in position. 

Mr. Manum has lately discarded all but one-pound sections. When filled with finished combs, the cases are disconnected from the brood chamber, and before they are removed to the honey house the bees find their way out at the bee escape in the gable. A cord and a simple device allows the hive cover to be tipped back instead of having to lift them bodily when opened.

The hives are five feet from each other in rows twelve feet apart. To prevent upsetting by heavy storms in winter, a large cord is thrown across the roof and fastened to a stake driven in the ground on each side. During the winter everything needed in the summer campaign is prepared ready to be quickly supplied to the different yards by the teams which are then constantly on the road. In the spring at certain intervals Mr. Manum and his assistants spend a day in each apiary giving that aid to colonies which is so important. 

These rounds are made more and more often until the swarming season is about to commence, when one competent person is placed in charge and is in constant attendance for six or eight weeks, or until the honey season is over. Board is usually obtained at the farm house near which the yard is located, and the help are continually employed in hiving swarms, putting on or taking off boxes and in attending to other necessary details. 

As experienced men are not always to be had, many knowing nothing of the business must be taught, and as they usually commence for themselves as soon as really competent, this instruction must be given again and again. After a few weeks instruction some are able to do nicely the remainder of the season with occasional looking after. Women are also employed, and one who did not know a queen from a drone when she commenced, took entire charge of 116 colonies the second season.

At each apiary there is a building containing a honey room where clamps of honey are temporarily stored, and a work room where fixtures not in use are also housed. In each yard one hive stands on scales, of which a close watch is kept after the clover and basswood blossoms open. On the front of every hive in plain black figures is the colony’s number, while inside is a record of the colony, its origin, age of queen, date of each examination that season and their condition when examined. This is written in abbreviated characters on a piece of section or smooth board and laid on the packing. 

The apiarist also keeps in a book a list of the colonies casting swarms, and of those requiring special attention at a certain time. The wings of all queens are clipped to prevent their going off with the swarms. When the latter attempt to leave, they are caught by an arrangement consisting of a wire cloth cage fastened to a pole. It is made to stand anywhere by two legs, which fold up when not in use. A sufficient number of these are always at hand. When a swarm issues, the queen is caught on the ground near the hive and placed in the cage of the catcher, which is stood or held in the midst of or near the flying swarm, and the bees soon settle upon it, as seen in Figure 1.

 They are then left, and attention is given to the others, which usually issue at about the same time. If the swarm has gone some distance, or clustered in the top of a tall tree. it will soon return, as it is without a queen. So the catcher containing their queen is stood in front of the hive from which they came, and as they return they find her and cluster upon it. To make this more certain, the entrance of the old hive is covered with a cloth. 

This plan differs from that of most beekeepers and enables Mr. Manum to quickly handle many swarms. In hiving, when time is more plenty, about a third of each swarm is shaken back in front of the old hive and the balance of two or three swarms, with one queen, is hived in a new hive. As this makes a powerful working colony in the new hive, abundant room in sections is immediately given.

A close watch is kept of the apiary, and more storage room is added as fast as used to advantage, and the filled clamps are removed as soon as they are completely sealed. A large crop can be cut off from communication with the brood chamber in a short time, and when free from bees is carried to the honey room and afterward carted to the central honey house. It is then scraped clean of propolis by women and girls, and after being graded is stored in the honey room to ripen.

 In the fall, wood sides of white poplar instead of glass are fastened to each section, and they are shipped to market in white poplar crates holding two one-pound sections. Sections full of nice white comb, those full of darker combs and those light in weight, are each crated separately and the crates are marked “Green Mountain,” “Comb Honey” and "Light Weight," according to contents. A few of the very best and most perfect are selected from the first quality and go as the “Snow Flake” brand.

As most of the crop is secured as surplus and but little is gathered after its removal, that remaining below is no more than the bees need during the season. Therefore, to keep them alive until spring, each colony must in early fall have its ration of sugar syrup. This season twenty-eight barrels of the best granulated sugar were required to insure sufficient winter food. For feeders, maple syrup cans with small holes punched in their bottoms are used. Three short legs of tin raise them enough to give the bees room to get at the holes. These cans are filled with syrup and set over a hole in the cover of the hive, and are renewed until the proper amount of food is consumed.

After the honey season, instead of a constant attendant at the out-yards. frequent visits are made, as in the spring, and are continued until the bees are snug for winter. Then an occasional trip is made on a warm day when the bees can fly to see that all entrances are clear.

Mr. Manum has, at present, about 700 colonies in eight different yards. The number in each is limited to 125 in the fall. The colonies in excess of this number are either sold or carried to a new location. For this work a double and a single team are used. By the use of rocks which hold a second tier the former takes fifty colonies and the latter twenty-three colonies. Before loading, the frames are immovably fixed and a sheet of muslin is tacked over the brood chamber to give air, while in very warm weather a rim covered with wire cloth is necessary to their safety. 

Mr.  Manum’s bees are most Italians, although in some apiaries there is a touch of Black and Holy Land blood.  He is about to test a few Carniolan queens.  The working queens are raised from the best Italian hives, which are selected out of this large number as possessing unusual excellences.  I saw many fine large queens a shade darker than the average Italians, having very plump and thick-set bodies.  I each yard, distributed among the regular hives, were many nucleus colonies - the temporary quarters of surplus queens.  

Mr. Manum has planted honey-producing crops in a limited scale, but is not certain that they can be made to pay.
LINKS:

• Nice photos and article in the Burlington Free Press.

• 1887 - Chapman's Honey-plant: #4 of Root's Bee Plants -letter from Manum at end of post

1734 - On Making the Bees Move Into Another Hive: from Réaumur's Memoires pour servir a l'histoire des insectes

There are some astounding, verging on absolutely bonkers, beekeeping techniques here, as well as interesting designs for equipment. Réaumur certainly enjoyed trying out ideas!  The point of this strategy is to move the bees away from the skep's load of honey so it can be harvested.

I include a version of the following disclaimer with each installment:

I have translated and used the illustrations appropriate to the text, positioning the particular part of a larger illustration near the text it illustrates.  The entire plate is also included.  In the original book you would have been flipping back and forth all the time to see what the text was referring to. 

I could not find a translation, (although that sounds implausible).   I used Google Translate, common sense and an ancient memory of French class to make sense of the plate descriptions, so don't quote me unless accuracy is not important. 

TENTH  MEMORY.

MEANS OF MAKING THE BEES 
OF A HIVE MOVE INTO ANOTHER

And how one can examine, one by one, all those of the Hive.

Planche 35 -

2017 NOTE: An aventail or camail is a flexible
curtain of mail attached to the skull of a helmet
 that extends to cover the throat, neck and
shoulders. Part or all of the face, with space
to allow vision, could also be covered.

EXPLANATION OF THE FIGURES OF THE TENTH MEMORY.

Plate XXXV.

Figure 1 is that of a camail suitable for putting under cover against the stings of the bees on the face, head, and neck of him who is obliged to disturb them, and even to irritate them. 

That is to say, of sieve-cloth, c, c, cords, which serve to fasten one of the sleeves on one of the arms, and of cords, which are fitted to hold the coat exactly on the chest.

Figure 2 shows one of these dryers, by means of which the bees which have been drawn from the bath as dead are re-aired and reanimated.

The walls of this drying-room are made of a sieve-cloth, extended and fixed on a wicker frame. In g, finish the wicker frame, go, can be called the collar of the dryer. This neck might be longer than it is here, and it would be only more convenient. 

It is expedient to put a ring of wire at in opening o,o; it keeps it round in the times when the bees are to be brought in, and what is more important, in that where they are to be taken out of the dryer.

 The c cord is used to bind the neck of the dryer, so that the bees which have recovered vigor can not leave them until they are permitted, and handles which make it possible to handle the dryer without risk, even when the bees become very lively.

Figure 3 shows the dryer frame on which the screen cloth can be applied and stopped as shown in Figure 2.









Figures 4 and 5 show from these doors or valves that M. de Moraiec has imagined to put on the hives whose males they wish to destroy.

Figure 4 has four open holes, and only one part covered by a valve.

 

The four holes in FIG. 5 each have a valve. 

The opening which has entered the lower edge of the hole, and that of the door, is sufficient to let a bee pass freely. But the drone-drone can only go out by raising the valve, and it is no longer possible for him to lift it when he wishes to return.

Figure 6 shows a hive which has been turned upside down to make its bees pass into another hive; it has been made to enter the ground to the right, so as to keep it thus reversed.

Figure 7,  a beehive in which the bees are to be housed has been placed on the beehive of FIG. 6.















Figure 8 shows the hives r r, s,s . 

Figure above, surrounded at their junction by a large towel bound around them with string to close all the passages which the bees could find.

Figure 9 shows the ruchess, of the preceding figures, placed on the top of the hive; many flies have already entered, and others continue to go.

Figure 10 is that of the hive r, of Figures 6, 7, and 8, of which the majority of the flies have been expelled, and of which those which remain leave to go towards the hive, is a sheet on which the hive R, has been shaken, a board arranged like a bridge to abridge the way to the flies that are en route to the hive sf.

Figure 11 shows a tub full of water, in which a hive has been bathed. The bees float on the water of this vat.

*******************************************

It is equally important for those who are raising bees in the field to profit by their labors, and those who are chiefly interested in learning their history,  to know the means of forcing those of one hive to pass into another.

All the wax and honey of the hive from which they were driven is taken.

If this process seems to be somewhat unjust, at least cruelty is not joined to injustice, as it is practiced  in many countries, where, in order to seize everything that these flies (bees) have picked up (honey), they have the barbarity to destroy them, where they are all suffocated in their own habitation.

There are even circumstances in which it is to render them a good service, only to make them leave a dwelling which is filled with wax cakes, although it is to establish them in another which is devoid of everything.

When these false moths (wax moth?), of which we have spoken in the third volume, have multiplied too much in a hive, the Bees have nothing better to do than to leave.  They would not be able to build as many cells as these false worms destroy.

The time of the swarms approaches, there is only one mother in each hive, and they multiply then without a male.

I must say that I bathed the bees of three hives the first days of April, one on the 5th, the other on the 9th, and the other on the 11th, and I bathed two others at the end of the same month, the 25th.
...... I must repeat, that more than once I have lost more than three-quarters of the bees, and sometimes more like seven-eighths.

It is only after several operations have been repeated and repeated, even the most simple, that we succeed in avoiding all accidents that prevent success, and that it is possible to make them as risk free as possible. 

The disadvantages to be avoided in order to make the bath of the bees successful can be divided into those of two different times - those problems  during the bathing of flies until they have been drawn out of the water, as drowned, and those problems which have come after they have been taken from the water until they are hived.

The greater the size of the tub of water, the less we shall have to fear from the bath. 
For having bathed two hives in the water of the same tub, which had no more diameter than the hives which I had successively entered, I lost almost all their bees.

When the quantity of water which surrounds the honey-cakes is small, this water soon finds itself too much effected by the same bees which are introduced into it.   The violent state in which they find themselves compels them to expel honey from both their ends.  The water in which too much honey and too many slimy excrements have been diluted, becomes itself too sticky.

The bees moist with this water are in a state similar to those which have been coated with oil.

The viscous matter, which enters into their stigmata, fixes it in order not to leave it any more, it stops the breathing, or it makes it too difficult. One sees the effect of this water, even on the body of bees, those which have been wet only by ordinary water dry a reddish color, whereas the others dry well, never they become reddish again, remain of a shining brown.   

In order to avoid the bad effect of such a water, two large buckets will be placed next to each other. In one of these buckets, we shall be content to plunge the base of the hive to about an inch or two in height. While a man  supports it in this state, another will beat the hive with a wand.

The flies, troubled by blows and the sound of this wand, are determined to fly - several fall into the water, the number of those falling there is greater than that of the others.  By moving the hive a little, and producing agitations in the water, these bees are conducted to its surface.  They are gathered with a skimmer or with a polka-dot sieve, and are carried in the second In the water of which those who still had an appearance of life, ended in losing it.

Finally, the hive is entirely dipped in the water only when the flies that remain there are obstinate and stay on the comb. After a few moments the hive is removed from the water, its combs are detached, and the flies that have remained on it are swept with a feather. They are dropped into the first tub. 

...

After passing the flies into the second tub, when they appear in it, they will be carried on towels, laid out on a large table, either in a room or in the air, according to the season.

With the towels, the flies will be wiped off, and dried as soon as possible. I lost a large part of the bees in a hive when I immediately placed them wet on a wooden table and placed them too wet in jars.   (For this chapter I am using the word "jar" for "poudrier".)

I still lost many of those of another hive, which had, however, been well wiped, because I put too many into each jar.
...

The glass jars, with which I have employed many kinds of operations of this kind, and for several which have very well succeeded, are, nevertheless, vessels of the least proper to complete the drying of the bees.

The greater part of the water which the heat causes to evaporate from the body of the flies, attaches itself to the glass as it leaves the bees. Now, and this is a remark which I have had occasion to make more times than I would have wished, the heat which would  be able to revive the bees under any other circumstances, promptly kills those that are wet.

These buckets, we shall be content to plunge the base of the hive to about an inch or two in height; While a man will support her in this state, another will beat her with a wand.

The flies, troubled by blows and the sound of this wand, are determined to fly; several fall into the water, the number of those falling there is greater than that of the others.   By changing the hive a little, and producing agitations in the water, these bees are conducted to its surface.  They are gathered with a skimmer or with a polka-dot sieve, and are carried in the second in the water of which those who still had an appearance of life, ended in losing it.

Finally, the hive is entirely dipped in the water only when the flies that remain there are obstinate to stay on the combs. After a few moments the hive is removed from the water, its cakes are detached, and the flies that have remained on it are swept with a feather. They are dropped into the first tub. In some of the operations, which were not successful, I took the cakes while the hive was under the bucket, and overturned. 

I did not think how bad this process was.

The broken combs permitted a great deal of honey to be poured out, and the water on which it was contained was taken over, and the water became too sticky. A further advantage is that it is necessary to beat the hive before it is completely plunged in water, is that there are very few flies in the cells, the blows of the wand cause them to leave it:

Besides that it always has the risk to draw them when they have lost all movement, it is long
after passing the flies into the second tub, when they appear in it, they will be carried on towels, laid out on a large table, either in a room or in the air, according to the season.

With the towels, the flies will be wiped off, and dried as soon as possible. I lost a large part of the bees in a hive, to content myself with leaving them a little drained on a wooden table on which they were immediately placed, and having placed them too wet in jars.

I still lost many of those of another hive, which had, however, been well wiped, because I put too much into each jar.

 Scarcely had I left the quarter or the third part of the jar;

And it is too much for the quarter to be full, by placing the first immediately on the wood, I had wished to put out of danger of perishing those who would too soon recover forces,
may, as they often do, stick to the napkins, and leave their stings.

But when they have been kept in the water for a long time, they have to wipe them before they are able to sting. In order not to run the risk itself of feeling the sting of a few, it is necessary to take with a spoon of silver, the pile which has just been wiped, and which it is desired to bring into the jar.

The glass jars, of which I have employed many kinds of operations of this kind, and for several which have very well succeeded, are, nevertheless, vessels of the least proper to complete the drying of the bees.

The greater part of the water which the heat causes to evaporate from the body of the flies, attaches itself to the glass as it leaves the bees. Now, and it is a remark which I have had occasion to make more times than I would have wished, the heat which would only be able to revive the bees under any other circumstances, promptly kills those that are wet.

Several times, after having seen all the bees in a jar, revived and in motion, I saw them perish in less than a quarter of an hour without being able to attribute their death to any other cause than to the heat which had caused the water to penetrate into their stigmata, although this heat could only have been agreeable to dryer flies, or those held in a less humid place.




I have thought of a way of making them sustain the same heat without danger.    I substituted
for the glass jars, other vases, which I call drying-rooms, and have all the advantages we can wish them. 

These are baskets in the form of bottles, the walls of which are the most coarse and consequently the clearest sieve.

Four uprights of the same wood, of which the baskets are made, are fastened by each end to a circle, to a ring of the same material. One of the rings larger than the other, forms the bottom of the dryer, and the smallest, in fact, the collar. 







It is on this frame that a sieve-cloth is sewn, which surrounds it on all sides. It is, however,

satisfied to sew it round the ring of the collar above which it rises, and above which it is bound with a ribbon, as the mouth of a sack is tied.  The drier was placed in the We want them. 
It would be useless to point out how these dryers have more advantage over the glass jar, but I must say that these same dryers made me think about  having wiped the bees crudely. 

There was nothing better to sink them more thoroughly, and without exposing them to losing their sting, than to stretch them on large sieves, from which they are then drawn with a silver spoon to put them in the dryers. We see that the size of the dryers is arbitrary.

The most important thing is to think of returning the bees to a hive only after they have regained their vigor, only after they have become well dried, only after having seen them in groups or garlands in the dryers.

To have been too much in a hurry to put them into a hive, I have nearly lost all those I had bathed, and they fell one upon another at the bottom of the hive where they collected in a mass too thick from which the moisture could not escape.

Those which were below the first strata, and still more those which were in the last strata, were overwhelmed by the weight of the flies of the upper strata, and were too weak to escape.

The excrements which they rendered, moistened by the water which they found among them, extended themselves upon their stigmata, and placed them in a state in which the aid which I wished to give them too late was useless to them. It was not till the next day, that is to say, at the end of twelve hours, that I saw them in such a bad condition, that I wished to heat them.

But we shall have a happier success. A few flies of each hive will scarcely be lost if they are bathed and dried with the precautions which have just been indicated.







The warmest times may not be the most favorable to this operation: besides the first bees I bathed at the end of December, I bathed those of a hive on the 10th of November in the middle of a garden, In the morning when the thermometer was only two degrees above freezing;
I lost as few of these bees as it is possible to lose in the happiest change of hive.

I will add, in passing, that among these bees, which is very important, is to think of bringing the bees into a hive only after they have regained all their vigor, They became very reddish, only after having seen them in groups or garlands in the drying-rooms.

To have been too much in a hurry to put them back in a hive, I have nearly lost all those I had bathed, and they fell one upon another at the bottom of the hive; They found them collected in a mass too thick, and of which the moisture could not escape.

Those which were below the first strata, and still less those
Which were in the last layers, were overwhelmed by the weight of the flies of the upper strata, and were too feeble to escape.

 The excrements which they rendered, moistened by the water which they found among them, extended themselves upon their stigmata, and placed them in a state in which the aid which I wished to give them too late was useless to them; For it was not till the next day, that is to say, at the end of twelve hours, that I saw them in such a bad condition, that I wished to heat them.

But we shall have a happier success; We shall scarcely lose a few flies from each hive, if we bathe them and dry them with the precautions which have just been indicated.

The warmest times may not be the most favorable to this operation: besides the first bees I bathed at the end of December,
I bathed a beehive on the 10th of November in the midst of a garden, at one o'clock in the morning, when the thermometer was only two degrees above freezing;

I lost, however, few of these bees, that it is possible to lose them in the happiest change of hives. ...