through, shews hardly any appearance of wax ; it seems one solid mass of sugar ; and yet the shape of the cells is clearly discernible. The whole comb may be carefully dissected, like a puzzle, or rather, the separate hexagons of sugar which have been cast in the cells ; though it would puzzle the cleverest geometric in the world to reconstruct them. No one can imagine the beautiful appearance of such a comb unless he sees it ; and it is equally pleasing to more senses than one. But yet the bees cannot eat it. Place a piece before the most populous hive, and though the bees will carry away a small portion of honey, which they manage to dissolve, still they leave behind a mass of sugarplums, which they can no more reconvert into syrup fit for their consumption than they could a solid loaf of sugar. So that I believe a hive amply stored with this sort of honey would die of starvation, if they could get no fresh supplies. You can be in no doubt what to do with this sort of honey comb. It will keep any length of time, if the combs are wrapped up in white paper, and carefully packed away, or put, a number of them together, in a box. It is one of the best specimens of New Zealand produce with which to surprise and please our friends at home. But it affects what I am now telling you about running your honey in this way. It is difficult, nay impossible, to get it from the impure combs by any of the ordinary methods ; it will not run : pressure is equally useless. The only method I know is to put combs and all into a kettle, with just enough water to prevent their burning. Simmer them gently ; then pour through a sieve : this will stop the grosser impurities, though, if the combs are old, a great deal of nastiness will have been mixed up with the soup itself. Let it stand till cold, and then the wax will have formed a cake at the top, like half melted ice. Take this off carefully, and then clarify the honey which is below in the ordinary way ; that is, simmer it slowly, adding more or less water, according to the consistency you wish to bring it to, skinming off the scum as it rises. To prevent the honey burning, which will give it a dark colour, it is a good plan to place the vessel with the honey you are clarifying within another pot of water, gluepot fashion. The result of all this trouble will not be equal to the spontaneous production of the virgin combs : and yet I have never been able to hit upon a better plan of treating the dark combs which have crystallized honey in them. You may keep this inferior honey to feed your weak stocks with, and to use as physic. Dark combs which have liquid honey in them you have only to slice, and let drain, as I told you above. And now for the second article of bee produce--the wax. It is by far the most valuable of the two : for this reason--because there will be an unlimited demand for it. Solomon says--"It is not good to eat much honey :" Proverbs xxv. 27. And as with individuals, so with commerce : there is soon a glut of honey, but an almost infinite demand for wax. Australian bee keepers have found that it barely pays to export honey to England ; but wax, as well as tallow, will be one of their staples. I, for my part, wish all the world were lighted with wax candles; and that the last of the sun suffers were preserved in some national museum. Such a happy day is, I fear, far distant; but still we may live to see the day when every one in New Zealand burns a wax candle of his own making. The bees we have at present in New Zealand are only the seed of that vast crop which will one day fill our woods. When every hollow tree almost is tenanted, and the maoris have learnt the way of tracking the bees to their homes, the quantity of wax which will be brought to our markets will be enormous. That which can be obtained from tame bees is comparatively small. Not much more than a bound can be got from the combs of a hive which, if full, would contain twenty or thirty pounds of honey. Still, " many a little makes a mickle." So no careful bee wife ought to waste a single ounce of wax. Have a box in your bee house into which you may put all the scraps of comb which would otherwise be lost, with all the refuse from which the bees have lacked the honey; then have two or three melting days in the course of the year. Besides the combs from which the honey has run, you may have a considerable quantity more, if you carefully save up all belonging to hives which die off in the winter (and in a large apiary there will be many such, from the loss of the queen, and divers other causes); you may also cut out several empty combs from most of your hives, when you turn them up in the spring, for the purpose of cleansing the bottom board, and thoroughly examining into their state. All these combs should be divided into three, or at least two, divisions. First, pure white comb; secondly, comb of but one year old, which has indeed been bred in, but in which there is still more wax than refuse; thirdly, old black comb, and those in which there is a great deal of bee bread. The structure of this black comb is very curious. Lay a piece in the sun till it gets a little softened; you may then easily pick it to pieces cell by cell. You will find that each cell contains four or five layers of the silk which the grub spins in its transformation. These are moulded into the shape of the cell; and it seems to me, though I can hardly believe it, that the bees have some means of taking up the wax of which their cells are at first wholly composed, when the silky substance is ready to take its place; " waste not, want not," being one of the bees' standing mottoes.