About one year ago my attention was unexpectedly turned towards bees by a friend of mine who asked me to talk to some children on natural-history subjects.

I begged off, and pleaded ignorance. She insisted, and said I could easily read enough to be able to give a simple, childish talk. I finally yielded, and began to read about bees, birds, and spiders.

Anyone could guess the result. I became deeply interested, and a new world opened before my astonished gaze. Birds I have always loved, and I was glad to know them better; spiders I abhorred, but I learned to tolerate them, and also to greatly admire their skill and wisdom. But with bees I was fascinated. Such industry ! such sagacity! such cleanliness! such perseverance! Truly, it borders on the miraculous.

I read Maurice Maeterlinck's poetical book with delight; Mrs. Comstock on "How to keep Bees" was another treat. I studied the ABC of Bee Culture; I read "Buz" and other childish works on the subject, and still my interest grew.

The result can easily be foretold. Before winter was over I resolved to keep bees. My sister had three hives of the common black variety, and she said I could begin by taking care of them for a share of the honey. This I agreed to do. But all the time, though I had read so much, I did not know what a bee looked like, and I had no idea of the interior of a hive.

When spring opened I prevailed upon an experienced bee-keeper to introduce me to my bees. He came, and, without veil or gloves, and the use of a very little smoke, calmly proceeded to open the hives. I stood by, "armed to the teeth," or, in other words, closely veiled and gloved, and afraid to move lest those little stinging things should find some vulnerable spot.

No veteran can imagine the awe with which I first beheld the interior of those hives, and how I should ever learn to handle the frames was a frightful unsolved problem.

My friend ascertained that one colony was queenless (a fact I never should have discovered alone), and he deemed it wise to unite the bees to the other colonies. This he did, and removed the hive. Thus my stock was reduced to two colonies.

A good sister then presented me with an Italian colony, which I purchased of The A. I. Root Co. They were beauties. I never tired of looking at them, and I soon resolved to Italianize the others. Meanwhile they swarmed. No one knows the panic I was in. I sent for my friend, he could not come immediately, and I was sure my bees would be gone before he came. I think I was very stupid; but it was my first swarm, and I was afraid to touch them. My helper came at last, and we soon had them safely hived, and that swarm gave me nearly forty pounds of extracted honey last summer.

No one had told me how to prepare the brood-chamber of a hive, but I had done it according to the light I had, which was not much, to be sure. So when I put the next swarm in one of my new hives, and they all swarmed out the next day, I knew something must be wrong, I soon found that I had used light foundation, and it had torn with the weight of the bees, and had deposited them upon the floor of the hive. Poor little things! how they suffered from my ignorance! I had to hive them three times before they were properly settled. Meanwhile I was gaining experience.

Mr. Selser and Mr. Horner very kindly invited me to see them work with bees from time to time, and I learned more from them than I could ever gather from books.

I now know that my bees suffered from too much attention; but, as I said before, I never tired of looking at them, and, like the small boy who "wanted to see the wheels go wound;" I wanted to see what was doing in my hives.

I purchased Italian queens for all my black colonies, and it seemed little short of a miracle to see the bees turn yellow. Why one colony, after becoming Italianized, destroyed their new queen, raised another, and finally sent her adrift, will always remain a mystery; but I saw the last-mentioned queen take her flight to parts unknown, and what the present condition of that colony is I am unable to say.

From the foregoing it is easy to sum up by saying that my experience is exceedingly limited; but, nevertheless, I am an enthusiastic bee-keeper, and it appeals to me especially as an agreeable occupation for women because it is so clean. Then, too, there is always something new to learn, and I love to handle tools.

I am not sure yet about the financial part of it; but I hope to make it pay. One bee-keeper of long standing said to me, "Remember you are now getting experience, and experience costs money."

In addition to my "experience" I took about 120 pounds of honey from my bees, and doubled my stock this year. That is, I had two natural swarms, and; I divided one colony according to the Alexander method.

My hopes are high for next summer; and right here: I must say for the encouragement of beginners, that it is quite possible to become accustomed to being stung. I do not mind it now any more than I would a mosquito-bite.

Though I know so little of the matter, yet I firmly believe that I can make bees pay expenses and something more-how much more, remains to be seen.

I have not yet mentioned the honey; but, though last, it is by no means least, for what could be more delightful, delicious, and wholesome? Never have I enjoyed waffles and honey so much as this winter. Doubtless this is because I worked for the honey.

In conclusion, I have nothing to say to those who must make money at bee-keeping, for I have not tried it long enough to know whereof I speak; but for those who wish a pleasant, healthful, varied, and interesting occupation, I would say, keep bees by all means, and you will be repaid in honey and health at least.

Susan E. Williams.

Moorestown, N. J.

Yes, bee keeping by women can be made to pay and make the home self supporting

" Yes, bee-keeping by women can be made to pay and make the home self-supporting." See Chap. III.