1895 



c;leanings in bee culture. 



57 



gil up, no matter how high. What makes you 

 ask. anyway? '' 



"Oh! nothin\"says Zed, "only I was just a 

 thinkin' if it wasn't so high you wouldn't need 

 so many steps. If the two floors was on a level 

 it might be still better for the wimmen folks; 

 and if they couldn't be exactly on a level, but 

 •only about 8 inch diflference, they wouldn't need 

 any step.'" 



Jim hawhawed right out. '" 1 guess you've 

 got me, Zed," says he. "I believe in my soul 

 you're right. Make the upper story so fur up 

 they can't reach it, and they've got to build 

 steps; but make 'era so close they can reach 

 from one to the other, and they don't need any 

 steps. You're a great one, Zed. Well, I must 

 be a gettin' along to do my chores. But I be- 

 lieve Zed's about right." 



NOTES OF BICYCLE TRAVEL. 



AT CHICAGO; ON THE WORLD S FAIK GROUND; 

 DR. PEIRO. 



By E. R. Root. 



Before leaving Platteville, in view of the 

 a(«fu? Wisconsin roads that I had gone over I 

 decided to take the train for Chicago direct, 

 and therefore left on Monday morning, and ar- 

 rived in the city toward night of the same day. 

 The following morning I took the elevator (on 

 57 Fifth Ave. ) for the top floor of one of those 

 sky-scrapers in which is located the office of the 

 American Bee Journal. I found Bro. York 

 busy at his post, preparing to mail the next 

 issue of his paper. Ou asking me how long I 

 would stay I told him that I was one day be- 

 hind again, and I should have to go that night. 

 He would not have ii so any way. I had disap- 

 pointed him once by giving him only a short 

 ■call; and now thai I was in his possession he in- 

 tended to keep me at least over night. Resist- 

 ance was useless, and I meekly acquiesced. 



He proposed that we take a run over to the 

 World's Fair Ground for an afternoon's outing, 

 to which I readily agreed, for I was very anx- 

 ious to see what was left of the most beautiful 

 ■conception that ever came from the human 

 mind. Having some business down town I told 

 Mr. York I would meet him toward noon. The 

 tire of my rear bicycle wheel had given out, so 

 I stopped at the Chicago office of the Overman 

 Wheel Co., and on their guarantee I got a new 

 tire put on. While ihe wheel was in the repair 

 shop I ran over to Mr. Newman's, at 147 South 

 Western Ave. I found him in his office, reading 

 the morning paper; and for an hour or morel 

 had a very pleasant chat with the former editor 

 of the American Bee Journal, &nd now man- 

 ager of the Bee-keepers' Union. As our read- 

 ers know, he had sold out the journal on ac- 

 count of ill health, and is now conlining him- 

 self solely to the work of the Union and the 

 sale of bee-keepers' supplies. The season had 



not been an extra good one. It started out well ; 

 but the railroad strikes, whose center of opera- 

 tions were here, chopped it short off. His cus- 

 tomers, fearing they could not get their goods, 

 went elsewhere. 



Physically, Mr. N. was looking much better 

 than I expected to find him. He had had very 

 severe sieges of the grip; but he seemed to be 

 master of the situation. 



After an hour's pleasant chat I left, to join 

 Mr. York. In the afternoon we took a train for 

 the great World's Fair, or what was left of it. 

 As we neared the place I had a kind of feeling 

 that I ought to see those beautiful buildings 

 looming up once more. But, no; most of them 

 are gone, and that, too, the very best. On go- 

 ing through the gate where we used to pay 50 

 cts., now open to the public, every thing seem- 

 ed to have changed. The terrible demon. Fire, 

 had done its work. Midway had turned into a 

 residence street, where just a year ago there 

 was bustle and hustle — indeed, a pandemonium 

 of sights, things, and persons. 



Wiiere, oh where I were the Manufactures 

 and Liberal Arts Building? Over yonder were 

 some lofty towers of framework of what might 

 have been, probably, the great building. Tons 

 and tons of massive framework attached to 

 other framework standing, hung dangling care- 

 lessly in the air, and seemed ready to drop any 

 moment; and great masses of steel bars were 

 twisted and distorted into every imaginable 

 shape. Bridges were burned; in fact, every 

 thing was so fearfully changed that my heart 

 was sad in comparing the mind's-eye picture of 

 a year ago with what I then saw. The lagoons 

 were there, of course, but the beautiful railings 

 were damaged, and some of the bridges were 

 gone. The Horticultural Building, and the 

 Illinois State, both to me of the least interest of 

 all, were left standing, and over yonder was the 

 Art Building, which, of course, had been put up 

 permanently, and is now a museum. 



The grounds in general seemed very much 

 smaller now that the best and greatest of the 

 structures were destroyed, and every thing 

 seemed so changed that it was hard to tell 

 where one was '" at," the old landmarks having 

 been almost completely obliterated. Here and 

 there on the banks were gondolas, turned bot- 

 tom upward, bleaching in the sun. They were 

 of no practical use then, and nobody wanted 

 them. The Esquimaux ponds were gone en- 

 tirely save the hollow dry spots that marked 

 their location. 



Tramping about as we did over the obstruc- 

 tions, Mr. York was considerably tired; for, un- 

 like myself, he was not used to long-distance 

 traveling. We accordingly made our way as 

 best we could over the piles of rubbish, to the 

 Art Building. This stood in perfect condition 

 as it appeared a year ago, and it was refreshing 

 to look upon something that was still left of the 

 Great Fair in a perfect state of preservation. 



