In a village in Germany, where the number of bees kept was regulated by
law, a bad season had proved that the place was overstocked, from the
great weakness of all the colonies in the neighborhood. There was but
one exception, that of an old man who was generally set down as being no
wiser than his neighbors. The honey harvest came round, and when he had
stored away double the quantity that any of the rest had saved, he
called his friends and neighbors together, took them into his garden,
and said: “If you had been more charitable in your opinions, I would
have told you my secret before,” and he pointed to the facing of his
hives--one degree more to the east than was generally adopted. The sun
came upon his hives an hour or two sooner by the movement, and his bees
were up and stirring, and had secured a large share of the morning’s
honey before his neighbors’ bees had roused themselves for the day.