Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 275, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 6 December 1917 — Page 3

GREAT LOSS OF BEE COLONIES IN WINTER

ORCHARD IS IDEAL PLACE FOR BEE COLONIES.

(Prepared by the United States Department of Agriculture.) The beekeepers of the United States lose at least one-tenth of their colonies of bees every winter. This Is a minimum loss, which Is frequently Increased to one-half and sometimes more in certain sections. This decrease Is largely due to carelessness or to lack of knowledge, and it is entirely practical to reduce it to less than one per cent, the small loss covering various accidents which cannot be foreseen. An Industry which can survive in the face of such a decrease must have great possibilities for commercial advancement when the loss is properly reduced. ' - The causes of the death of individual bees or of a colony of bees in winter, barring unusual accidents, are only two in number: (1) Inadequate stores and (2) excessive heat production. The numerous factors usually given in the literature on the subject as entirely distinct fall into these two classes, except for some that are usually given which the authors do not believe to be operative. Excessive Heat Generation. It was first shown by specialists of the United States department of agriculture that at hive*temperatures between 57 and 69 degrees Fahrenheit, a_ normal broodless colony of bees does not form a cluster, but the bees remain Inactive on the combs. When the temperature of the air Immediately surrounding the bees (not the temperature of the air outside the hive) falls to 57 degrees Fahrenheit or lower, they form a cluster and those in the center begin to generate heat by muscular activity, while those in the outer portion serve as insulators by crowding close together, usually with their heads toward the center of the cluster. The Innermost portion rapidly acquires a temperature considerably higher than that of the air about the bees before clustering was necessary, often going to 90 degrees Fahrenheit in normal colonies and higher in abnormal ones. The number of bees engaged in heat production increases ns the outer temperature falls and the Insulating, zone is consequently decreased in thickness but becomes more compact. The entire cluster becomes smaller as the outer temperature falls. Necessity of Packing.

If bees can be kept in an environment such that the temperature of the air immediately surrounding them is 57 degrees Fahrenheit, or slightly above, they are saved much unnecessary and unprofitable labor. To the theoretical objection that bees need exercise, it is necessary only to state that the authors have so wintered bees In a cellar as well, as outdoors with ' wonderfully successful results. If bees are kept In a cellar under the best conditions the results are excellent, but it is not proposed to discuss this more -complicated phase of the subject here. If wintered outside in a packing case with abundant insulation, any heat generated escapes slowly and the temperature of the ale in the hfve rarely falls below 55 degrees Fahrenheit If Infrequently protect-, ed, the temperature of the hive cannot be kept so high and the bees must generate much more heat. In singlewalled hives it is common for the temperature of the air around the ('luster to fall to freezing or lower, In which event the Sees generate an excessive amount of heat and perhaps die when they are no longer capable of the necessary muscular activity. The necessity of packing is thus made clear, and in any locality in which.the outer temperature often falls to 40 degrees Fahrenheit, or below, it is desirable to protect bees to conserve their vitality. If the temperature should fall to 40 degrees Fahrenheit only a few times during the winter, this would not be serious enough to make insulation iiecessary. Accumulation .of Feces. Heat generation causes increased consumption of, stores; this in turn causes an accumulation of feces within tlje bees, which is more rapid if the stores contain a high percentage of indigestible materials, and the presence of feces causes Increased activity, often resulting in the death from excessive heat generation. Beekeepers call this condition dysentery if the accumulation is so excessive that the bees are unable to retain the feces. Dysentery' causes the death of bees in winter, so far as has been seen, solely by undue activity and excessive heat production. ' This detrimental effect is reduced by good stores, but obviously the proper method is to preven£jm unnecessary accumulation of feces by preventing a heavy consump-

tion of stores, chiefly by providing a sufficiently high surrounding temperature. i In mild climates, in which there are frequent days when bees can fly and rid themselves of Teces. the injurious effects of poor stores are less notice-, able, because the feces do not accumulate sufficiently to cause abnormal activity. The accumulation of feces is to be considered as an irritant, causing responses similar to disturbance by jarring or exposure to light. Proper Insulation, The exact method of packing is not especially important, provided enough insulation is given on all sides. Colonies may be packed singly in any sort of box, or they may be packed in groups of four. Some beekeepers arrange colonies in long rows and apply insulation to the whole row. The placing of several hives in contact has the advantage that the colonies insulate bne another. If arranged in groups of four, two facing easf and two west, they may be left on the ‘same stand throughout the year and are readily manipulated during summer. If in long rows close together, summer manipulations are Impeded, unless the hives are moved after the insulation is removed. Placing colonies in -long rows is therefore not advisable. Whatever type of outer case is used, It should be tight, to prevent rain and snow from wetting the insulating material. If the bees do not have sufficient stores, they may be given combs of honey, but these should always be given before cold weather, so that a proper cluster space may be formed by the moving of honey, since bees always cluster in empty cells of the comb adjacent to stores. Feed Sugar Sirup. If honey in combs is not available, the bees may be fed extracted honey, hut the usual practice Is to feed a thick sugar sirup made of two or two and one-half parts of sugar to one part of water by volume?" To this sirup one ounce of tartaric acid should be added for each 40 to 60 pounds of sugar while the sirup is being heated to the boiling point to dissolve the sugar crystals. . The sirup should be boiled 15 minutes. The acid helps to Invert the cane sugar, thus retarding its granulation In the comb. If there is any question as to the quality of the stores, it is a good practice to feed ten pounds of sirup at the time of packing, in addition to the stores provided earlier, this being stored Immediately above the cluster. It is thus used first, and an accumulation of feces does not occur so long as the bees use only the sugar sirup. There is, however, no better food in winter than a good quality of honey. As was stated earlier, honey-dew honey causes a rapid accumulation of feces, resulting in dysentel*y. If this is present In the fall, it should be removed and better stores given. Some fall honeys are similarly injurious, but their injurious effects may be reduced by feeding sirup at the time of packing.

FARM HORSE WORKED TO UTMOST CAPACITY

Wije Use of Animal Is of Vital Concern to Farmer, Says Agricultural Department. (From the United States Department oi Agriculture.) The horse that works 1.000 hours a year and costs SIOO for feed, shelter, etc., is cheaper than the horse that costs but $75 for keep and works but 500 hours. The former costs but 10 cents per hour worked, while the latter costs 15 cents. Wise use of the farm horse to his fullest working capacity is thus of vital concern to the farmer, according to United -States department of agriculture bulletin 500, just Issued, “Cost of Keeping Farm Horses and Cost of Horse Labor,” embodying the results of the study o£ the records for 316 horses on 27 farms in Illinois, Ohio, and New York. In Illinois 154 horses on 10 farms showed an average yearly cost for keep of $100.65. The average yearly hours worked per horse were 1,053 and the cost per hour worked* 9.56 cents. Records for 72 horses In Ohio showed an average cost of keep! per horse and cost per hour (13.09 cents. In New York the average yearly cost per horse of 90 horses on 10 farms was $145.02,' average hours worked 1,020, and average cost per hour cents. J.

THE EVENING REPUBLICAN... RENSSELAER. IND.

Little Problems of Married Life

By WILLIAM GEORGE JORDAN

(Copyright) THE EBB-TIDE OF LOVE. The saddest thing in married life is the drifting apart of those who have lived and loved for years in the sunshine of each other’s presence. It is just a heart tragedy in the life of two. The greatest trials of life are not those which come to us from the world out--side the home, but those from the world within. With the inspiring pressure of the hand we’ love held tight in our awn, the battle of life can be borne bravely, but when the refuge of love and mutual respect and esteem is swept away, the very bulwarks of the home seem gone. Occasional discords, misunderstandings and little clouds of unhappiness may not be serious. The sun of reconciliation may scatter them, and in the balmy atmosphere that follows they may be forgotten. But it- is different when love itself grows cold and respect for each other, which is so able an understudy to love, goes on a long vacation. Then inharmonies intensify as the days go by; antagonism on the basic questions of life grows more bitter; grim, hopeless silence takes the place~of speech, or the atmosphere becomes vitiated by hot words of recrimination and contempt There is sometimes an indignant outburst of anger at white heat that is not so awful as it seems. It may be the fierce flame of protest from the heart that shows the fire of love is still burning; but constant, cold dead sarcasm and bitterness speak only of embers. , This condition is not a matrimonial duet; it is a matrimonial duel. When either husband or wife speaks words meant to sting,' phrases seemingly innocent to others hearing them, but which are deftly loaded to annoy or madden as they relentlessly find their way through the vulnerable point in the armor, it is time for those two to declare a truce and to hold a speedy peace conference or there will not be enough love left to hold an inquest over. They may even grow to hate each other’s ways, moods, acts, and turns of speech. The voice once loved may now sound shrill and hard; the step on the stair which was sweet music may seem a jarring discord, and the rippling laughter may strike only a vibrating note of vague rebellion. This surely shows Cupid is getting ready for a postmortem and a dead happiness will soon be buried. Sometimes the growing separation is on one side only, and one still loves with the old intensity and the old heart hunger. As absence is always harder for the one left behind, so this twilight of love is most painful to the one whose love is still constant. It is the dead nerve that carries no pain. The finer nature suffers most in life, as variations in temperature that may disturb the sensitive soul of a violin arq. powerless to affect brass cymbals. There may be a conscious effort on the part of the one who loves to disbelieve in the growing separation —not to credit it, not to realize it, nor to accept it for a moment as a possibility. But sometimes a word, a look, a sentence or an act makes further self-illusion folly, as a lighting flash may reveal to a traveler an abyss at his feet. The smile that was the light of our life no longer cheers ps; the caresses that told of love unstinted are withheld; the tenderness that seemed as sure as sunrise or sunset has turned to doubt, and the one ■who still loves may battle hopelessly when all life around him seems to move in a fog. At such times despite every wisdom of heart and mind, one can never say the right word or do the right thing. Heart strings of sentiment, that once vibrated at the slightest touch and brought out in an instant a flood of music from the finest memories of the soul, are now mute. No explanations, no pleas, no baring of one’s very heart, no illumination of the subtlest windings of thought and emotion can vanquish that vague something that separates:

We may stand broken hearted 1 by a wall of separation made up of gossip, fear, doubt, suspicion, injustice, and misunderstanding, with that most helpless of all despairs when we see love that was our "whole life, and still is all that makes life worth living, swept away as one would watch from a distance a boat carrying a loved one swept by the rapids x over an engulfing cataract. This, is the time when memories of past joy rise like ghosts and bring only pangs of pain, when love’s .dead roses leave us only the thorns. Love rarely dies a sudden death. It is usually ailing a long time before its decease. Little ills that could readily be cured la their early stages are permitted to run into more serious conditions ; complications set io and love, with its vitality exhausted through long suffering, finally dies. Love’s neglected colds often develop into consumption. Prompt treatment with a little unselfish care, tender watchfulness and cheerful, patient pursing may restore love to perfect health. The great things that separate two who have loved are usually only trifles grown big and tyrannous through being ignored, basic evils in .thr character, temperament or disposition of either that should be silenced and conquered in the best interests of both. Even disloyalty may- be only the cli-max-form that heart hunger, neglect.

loneliness. Jealousy, vanity gone to seed, revolt from an atmosphere of nagging, monotony, unsatisfied longing for sympathy, injustice, idleness, longsuffering or a dozen other phases may finally assume. Any of these may furnish the soil in Which IT finds root and sustenance. Sometimes It is the fault of one; sometimes husband and wife both are to blame. ' The “Innocent” one is often unknowingly, and perhaps even recklessly, an accessory before the fact The way to prevent the ebb-tide of love is to determine at the very start of married life that there will be no ebb-tide. Sometimes husband and wife, really loving each other as of old, wander blunderingly apart through pettiness, pique, false pride or misunderstanding. Often with hands outstretched in the darkness, just hungering for each other, almost touching, when a motion, a smile, a term of endearment, a love light in the eyes of either, would bring them conquered and submissive in each other’s arms, yet a recklessly indiscreet word, a mean taunt, a psychic moment of possibility passed by unheeded, or a silence that seems cruel, may drive them still further apart. The .stream of fine sentiment and heart emotldn should sweep them out of themselves; sometimes it backs water and engulfs them. It really seems that some people do not want happiness or they would not dodge'it so successfully, and begrudge the trifles it takes to sqjure it. People who would be shocked at the bare thought of actually destroying a twodollar bill often toss idly aside the happiness of two for the merest trifle. Life is too short and love too great to sacrifice one hour through pettiness. What matters it whose the fault or whose the forgiveness? It is a very poor brand of personal dignity that dares to throw its desecrating shadow between them and the joy of reconciliation and new bonds of love. When the realization of the waning of love comes, the two should seek to forget for a moment the differences, the saddening changes, the cemetery of dead memories and buried emotions, and try to get back somehow to some common ground of unity and understanding. They should seek to gather together the trifles of sacred things 'not yet lost. In the thought of these there may be a vitalizing flame of the old love flashing out from the dull gray of the ashes that will butn away the dross of discord and misunderstanding. Argument itself rarely counts; this is but an intellectual appeal; what is needed is an. emotional inspiration. We should recognize conditions fully for our own guidance in action, but it is not wise to make evident our pain by pleas and protests. Cruel words meant to sting can be neutralized to a degree by showing no sign of being effected by them. There is a yellow streak of cruelty in love grown cold; It likes the cringing that shows its power. Studied neglect and cool indifference are rarely continued if they are received with an Innocent absorption or preoccupation they cannot penetrate. There is really little fun shooting with these blank cartridges. An unexpected'kindness, a note of tenderness in speech or act, the regenerating Influence of the sweet sentiment, and graceful- attention of the earlier days of loving, may melt a mood of opposition that any argument would solidify as heat sets clay. Trying to get back to the fork of the road where parting came may illuminate life and show the insidious element that keeps apart two, who should love each other. In the care of a garden there is a twofold duty—• the elimination of the weeds and the planting of the flowers. In the home life the dual duty is specially vital; when discord reigns there should be at least the negative virtue of avoiding subjects of inharmony, of cutting off those things that intensify differences, of stopping the fire of verbal grapeshot that stings like needles. It is a time for antidotes, and if you cannot possibly give an antidote, Tn mercy give a poultice—not a blister. It is the hour when two people should work overtime making allowances for each other, and pack their sense of wounded personal dignity away for the season in tar paper, for it is in the way during such a crisis. In a storm at sea everything is sacrificed to save the ship; personal discomfort, suffering, trial, hardship—all count for nothing if the vessel Itself with its people be kept afloat. - When the life happiness of two hangs ip the balance, when love is sinking in a night of doubt, there should be a supreme effort to sa-fe the ship. Throw over pride, self-will, pique,, dignity, fear, selfishness, all little pet vlces e il necessary, sacrifice every wrong and even,, minor rights-—just to save the ship. Love is the most valuable cargo on the ship of life. It is the greatest thing in this world and the only thing that will make the next worth the llv ing. The ebb-tide of love is the saddest thing in a true individual life. It is a life’s follj&to let love die if aught we can do will keep it real and living.

Maybe There Are Others.

She was a sweet Jittie thing, with the most waspy of wasplike waists, and passersby had nothing but admiration Ini their eyes for her. But what was that? She had fainted. Tenderly they carried her into a chemist’s shop. An Irishman, who had observed the occurrence, looked inufter a few minutes, and inquired: - “How is she now?” .A. “Oh,” was the reply, “she’s Coming to-” “Ah,” murmured the son of Erin,, “come in two, has she? Poor thing! Bedad, ittyjust what I was afraid of.”

Switzerland In War Time

THERBrare villages, even within the radius of the London searchlights, where the remark Is not uncommonly heard: “One almost forgets the war down here, it’s difficult to believe there is a war!” — the speaker usually some tired worker snatching a few days’ rest, but prevented by limits of time and money from a longer journey, writes Algernon Blackwood in Country Life. Sometimes, however, the observation varies. This morning, for instance, an overworked woman, seeking a few days’ change and rest, but a woman still sensitive enough to dream of happier days in the careless Long Ago, mentioned her yearning for the peace of a beflowered valley of the Alps, where the glacier streams gush downwards from eternal snows, where the wind sighs softly through great pine woods, some quiet valley brimmed with crystal sunlight and lying beneath a dome of -stainless blue. “Just one week.” she sighed, “one little week in sight of the Eiger or the Blumllsalp! To see the stars round the crest of the Matterhorn again and hear the echoes of falling water all night long in the peaceful valleys. The dawns, the sunsets, the tinkling of the cow-bells, the simple, happy peasants, and the children in the fields! If someone first would hypnotize me to forget ... 1” It was a natural longing that thousands feel today. Only the hypnotic forgetfulness would havd to be very thoroughly managed. No Longer a Playground. For Switzerland, an oasis surrounded on all sides by the great belligerents, offers no escape today from sharp reminders that Europe lies soaked in blood. The valleys have lost their hint of other-worldliness, the

mountain hotels their fun and laughter. Winter and summer sports both languish; there are no merry dances, the orchestras.are dumb, and many a resort that in peace time was unpleasantly overcrowded now experiences difficulty In keeping open at all. In every department of her normal life Switzerland has suffered a violent, even a ruinous dislocation; and while the flow of tourist money has practically ceased, the cost of Mobilizing Several divisions and keeping them on a war footing Is a grave item in the national economy that must be met out of diminished revenues. Owing to (he irregular supply, if not sometimes the actual lack, of fuel—the Country’s coal is derived from Germany—more than one industry has been in peril and more than one factory, deprived of the necessary raw material, tjeen shut down. Diminished income, scarcity of labor, of’coal and raw material, combined with heavily Increased expenses, have been among the great — though not, perhaps, the greatest—disabilities this little enclosed country has suffered from the war. Like One Vast Hospital. There are far sharper reminders of the war, however, than these general trade and economic conditions, and the lady who yearned for the peace and seclusion of her favorite haunted mountain valleys would find them at her elbow everywhere. Swiss hospitality has become proverbial; Switzerland has opened her gates to the wounded and disabled; the grands blesses from the prison camps of Germany fill the streets of her towns and crowd the inns and chalets of even remote upland villages. Khaki from every, corner of the 1 British empire, Australia, New Zealand, Canada, kilts from Scotland, Gurkhas from India, the uniforms of Belgium and France

View of Lucerne.

are met In field and forest, on mountain paths, in rowing boats and steamers on the lakes, in shops and churches and cinemas of the towns. In every train and tram in khaki or the pollu blue, in the village case, at the Kursaal concert, half way up some dizzy height, or in ’-the shady ■ nook of some hotel or villa garden, is seen at every hour of the day that symbol of a fighting world —the military salute. The Interiors of Clinique and convalescent home, of doctors' consulting rooms and private nursing quarters, are not, of course, so easily seen, but it needs no imagination to divine that they, too, are full. The crutches, the empty sleeves, the limping legs and shaded eyes are everywhere, and few of their owners, men and officers, but languished two years at least in one of the miserable German prison camps that have stained the name of Germany beyond all cleansing. Yet, equally, there are compensations that no Imaginative .mind can fail to note; there are striking contrasts. The Red Cross flag that first w’aved from a Geneva tower now seems to stream from the summit of Mont Blanc itself, covering the entire land with its gracious and beneficent meaning. And, thanks to its protection, these khaki figures, officers and men, heroes all from Le Cateau, Mons and the rest, take their fill of the sunshine and the mountain wind, enjoying themselves at last, and trying to forget their vile captivity. Strange sights may be seen —is this the Switzerland that we remembered, or some dream with happiness and nightmare oddly mixed? Elderly, bronzed,. officers, beribboned and beclasped, chasing swallowtails with home-made nets and kill-ing-bottles, and with the zest of eager

Main Street of Murren.

boyhood!' A first lieutenant, one sleeve empty, casting a rod over a mountain stream for trout, a flying man behind him, limping badly, picking flowers as though he saw them for the first time in*, his life! Three others, with shaded eyes, or possibly with three sound eyes among the party, ellmbing trees for birds’ nests as though home for the summer holidays in Kent or Surrey! Food Scarce, Prices High. Switzerland, Indeed, today Is changed beyond recognition. Prices are high and food is scarce. Rationing runs its difficult course, as elsewhere in our dislocated world. Trains are reduced, and railway, as also amusement, tickets heavily taxed. It is good to know that many of our own men and officers have come home now from Chateau d’Oex, with its’ attendant villages of Rougemont and Rossinieres, from Murren in the Oberland and other places. 1 The majority of these have not seen England for three years at least. Their evacuation will make room for others to come in from Germany, and no one can be more grateful for this than those, whose places in Switzerland will thus . be tilled. There is another aspect of life in Switzerland that is less accessible to ttlie public, as well as less free for the journalist to write about Though the resorts are somewhat deserted, and the villages handed over to interned soldiers chiefly, the towns are crowd- ■ ed, and some of them are booming. Geneva, Berne, Zurich and Lausanne are packed with strange humanity, and rooms not easily to be had. Lucerne is thriving; Lugano very busy. Every nationality is represented, every shade of color 1 . Germans are übiquitous, of course, making themselves at home even in French Switzerland.