McFall, Mo., Nov. 30, 1893.
Another “Bee in the Ear.”
That account of the editor of the _Progressive Bee-Keeper_ having
trouble with a bee in his ear (page 649), sent a convulsive shudder
over me. Three years ago, while working in the apiary, a few bees got
inside of my veil. I paid no attention to them until one started with
a firm determination to go through my head by way of my ears. Just
how near she succeeded I would not like to say, but it _seemed_ as if
she had accomplished half her journey, and was still going further.
Well, to say I was scared the worst I ever was in my life, is putting
it mildly. When I tell you I take delight in robbing ordinary yellow
jackets’ nests with my naked hands in the hayfield, with a crowd of men
looking on at a safe distance, you will know I am not very timid around
bees, either.
My first thoughts were to run to the house, but I had taken but a few
steps when I realized that I would not be any better off there, as my
wife and family have never materialized yet. As a last resort I turned
the smoker in my ear full blast, and the bee came out, or I believe I
would not be here to tell the story.
No person has any idea of the great terror it brings over one, without
a trial. Who will be first among the many bee-keepers, to bring forth
an invention to slip over the ears, having a screen in order to not
interfere with the hearing? I will give up all my part, and only ask
that the inventor deal liberally with his customers.