The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1936-07-28
NOW
Library Yields
Melted HOney
POCK'S HILL
BY HELEN ESSARY


This is the sweet and simple
truth. It is the truth about an
incident based on the homeiife OF
bees. 1t will send naturalists or
to be specific, apiaristS, into foam
of agitation.
It is an utterly incredible story.
One of those experiences, horrible
to endure. Amusing to recall.
The scene of my tale is Pook' S
Hill, on the Rockville Pike, one of
the finest estates in Maryland,
and the home of Mr.. and Mrs.
Merle Thorpe. Mr.. Thorpe, you
know, is the editor of The Nations
Business.
About 10 days ago Mrs. Thorpe
noticed several golden drops hang
ing from the ceiling of an upstairs
sitting room. The sight surprised
her. The room had been done
over about two weeks before. It's
ceiling should be in perfect con-
dition.
The next day the drops were
larger and more numerous. They
reSembled little globules of honey.
Honey on the ceiling? The idea
was absurd.
After one more day Of specula-
ton and of increase in size and
number of drops, Mrs. Thorpe
asked an expert on the manage
ment of estates to come out to
Pook's Hill. This gentleman, head
turned back, studied the library
ceiling earnestly.
cts honey" he said. Melted
honey. There've been bees
around. Wen have to open up
the ceiling. A little hole ought
to let out all the honey"
While the houSeman and gar
dener were folding the rugs, NOV
ing out the furniture and placing
q bucket beneath the spots on the
ceiling, Mrs. Thorpe remembered
that last year stone mason had
sealed up some chlnkS in the ex'
terror of the house. Possibly few
bees, intent on storing a winter
supply of honey in safe place,
had thus been walled up in the
TafterS.
A few bees! A few! The ceiling
hole once made, instantly spread.
A spout of melted honey as big as
q mans arm rushed out like
geyser. Filled up the poor little
bucket. Splashed over on the floor
and flooded the room.
Frantically the men worked to-
board up the hole. The sticky del
uge must be controlled wisely or
it would turn into minor disaster.
Four workmen were hurried out
from town with canvas and the
thick paper used by builders. They
spread two layers Of canvas and
one of paper on the library floor.
Covered the stairs and the halls
Of the first and second floors.
Then the workmen set to their
task in earnest. They drained the
space above the ceiling of gallons
of honey melted by the recent ex-
cesSive heat. They climbed up into
the rafterS in the space under the
roof and took out great quantities
of unmelted combs and thousands
of dead bees.
I have an affidavit. practically,
for my next statement.
Three hundred pounds Of honey
were carried from the Pook'S Hill
Library.
Some of it was in hunks so large
that boards of average thickness
broke under the weight. A step
ladder was folded. A piece OF
canvas spread across to form
stretcher. Big pieces OF honey
were borne out thereon.
Above the ceiling where the bees
had put their food, four men toiled
with soap and water and Scrubblng
brushes for four days. Extra shoes
had to be kept outside the door OF
the library. Feet that had trod
about in the honey swamp couldn't
walk through the rest Of the
house.
And what did they do with the
honey? No, they didn't put it on
their pancakes in the morning. It
was full of plaster. They carried
It down to the meadow. Dug a
hole. And buried it deep in the
ground.
7 was at Pook'S Hill yesterday.
Plasterers, paperhangers, an d
painters had folded UP their kits
and left the library clean and
fresh again.
Mr.. and Mrs. Thorpe and their
son, Day, and their guests were
having dinner on the terrace. Be-
low the green lawn dipped and
rose and dipped again to the
valley, where a stream went con-
tentedly on its way beneath big
trees.
Two white heron had been dis
covered that morning feeding at
the stream.
Pook's Hill was calm and quiet