What kind of stories you will not hear happened on a long winter evening from our old beekeeper, when he, having missed, as they say, for the "courage of the tongue" a char or two of strong mead, will begin to write to his and his neighboring granddaughters the merits of the beekeeping business, better than which ("You are, young people, shake your mustache!" - taught the grandfather) no one in the world could do anything invent.