Thirteen colonies passed the five months incarceration and came out fresh and fair. The remaining two nearly failed us, as we attempted to have them live without much change of air. Those hives from which we removed the honey-boards and covered the frames with two thicknesses of good woolen carpets, all came out in the spring beautifully neat and clean. We shall anticipate the same favorable results for the coming winter. As the surplus honey harvest for 1870 has already passed, we can begin to count our actual gains. Comb-building began about the first of June, and ceased the first week in July. Since that date very little honey has been deposited in the boxes, even when the bees were furnished with nice frames of comb. The white clover blossomed very profusely, and ripened rapidly, and the bees were thus soon deprived of their largest and best harvest field. Thus far we have secured somewhat over four hundred pounds of No. 1 honey, and shall probably realize enough more to make _five hundred_ pounds, when all the boxes are removed and the hives taken up that are not wanted for winter. Thus far we have not succeeded so well as we have wished in combining colonies. We would not destroy any with brimstone, because that is so very unkind; but when we add colony to colony many bees will kill each other. Tobacco smoke and fragrant waters have at times failed to produce harmony of feeling. Perhaps it would be better to sell the colonies we do not wish to keep. We have, however, reason to be thankful for the sweet blessing we have already received, and are also thankful that our friends, west and south, are having such bountiful returns. Dear Editor, we have just returned from a visit to the school. The scholars were engaged in reading their themes, it being Saturday afternoon. Among the many subjects, one little girl had selected the Honey Bee. It interested us so much that we have taken the liberty to send you a copy, that you may see what one of our little Shaker girls, nine years of age, has written ABOUT BEES. “I love bees, because they make honey; but I do not love them sometimes, because they sting me, and that I do not like, though I like their honey. I have felt a sting from a honey bee, and I never want to have one again, for I know how it feels. It smarts well, indeed it does. A bee is like a little girl, because it does good when it wants to, and when it does not it will sting you. Now, scholars, I will just tell you not to ’flict a bee, if you don’t want it to sting you. It is like a girl, for if you ’flict her, she will be unkind to you, and you must not ’flict her. This is all I have to write about the bee.”--C.