1895 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



219 



turn their attention to alsike. It is hardly 

 probable that all will do as well as for friend 

 Coverdale; but the experiment, at least on a 

 limited scale, will be worth the trial.— En.] 



HOW I MET A. I. ROOT IN THE PINE WOODS 

 OF FLORIDA. 



"we met by chance," but not "the usual 



WAY." 

 By Thaddeiis Smith. 



I first became acquainted with the name and 

 writings of A. I. Root some 35 years ago, when 

 he was a correspondent of the old American 

 Bee Journal, then published in Washington, 

 D. C, and wrote over the nom de plume of 

 "Novice." This was before Gleanings was 

 probably ever thought of, and before A. I. R. 

 had any idea of going into the manufacturing 

 of bee-keepers' supplies. Being very much in- 

 terested in Novice's letters I found out his true 

 name and address, and had a short correspon- 

 dence with him. When the publication of 

 Gleanings commenced I became one of the 

 first subscribers, and an occasional contributor; 

 and, having read Gleanings ever since, and 

 being personally interested in the subjects its 

 editor treated— bee-keeping, gardening, moral- 

 ity—it was but natural that I should become 

 personally interested in its editor and his work 

 and his family; and yet in all these years we 

 had never met face to face. It has long been 

 my desire to visit the Home of the Honey-bee, 

 that I might become personally acquainted 

 with the Roots and their associates, and see 

 their interesting establishment. It is not very 

 far from my home on I'elee Island, iu Lake 

 Erie, to Medina; but something has always 

 been in the way of my getting started there. 



In November last I left my island home to 

 spend the winter iu Kentucky and Florida. I 

 saw in Gleanings that A. I. R. was also going 

 to Florida. He was to start earlier than I in- 

 tended, and he intimated that he would goon 

 to Cuba, so I had no expectations of meeting 

 him. I started for Florida Jan. 22d; but before 

 I started I copied from Gleanings the names 

 and addresses of several Florida correspondents. 

 I had no special business with these bee-keep- 

 ers; but I thought that, if I should go near 

 them, I would call, as I generally find them 

 congenial companions. Among these names 

 was that of Charles Norman, of St. Peters- 

 burg. 



I spent three weeks on the east coast, from 

 Jacksonville to Palm Beach on Lake Worth. I 

 then made my way across the State to Tampa, 

 my objective point being Tarpon Springs, 

 where I had an engagement to meet some Ken- 

 tucky friends. To get from Tampa to Tarpon 

 Springs, »it was necessary to cross the bay to St. 

 Petersburg to get to the railroad, and then I 

 had six hours to wait for the train. To pass 



the time, and see if there was any thing there 

 of interest, I took a walk with my daughter, 

 who is traveling with me; and as we passed 

 the postoffice I said to her that I knew of a 

 bee-man living there, and I would Inquire for 

 him. "Yes, I know Mr. Charles Norman," the 

 young man said. "He lives ten miles out in 

 the country." 



Seeing a livery-stable on the opposite side of 

 the street I crossed over and asked about Mr. 

 Norman. I was informed that they had just 

 sent a man out to Mr. Norman's. It was only 

 seven miles, and he would take me out for two 

 dollars. I did not think that I wanted to see 

 Mr. Norman quite that bad, but felt curious to 

 know who the man was that had just gone to 

 Mr. Norman's, and concluded it must be some 

 bee-man with whose name I might be familiar, 

 and I went back to the hotel to consult the reg- 

 ister. To my surprise and delight I there found 

 the names "A. I. Root and daughter." The 

 clerk said the gentleman had gone out, but the 

 lady was in the house. I told my daughter, 

 and sent her upstairs to hunt up Miss Root, and 

 she brought Miss Constance down, and we very 

 soon become acquainted. Didn't I know her as 

 " Blue Eyes " when she was a laughing, romp- 

 ing child? know her as a college student? 

 know her as the musical genius who handled 

 the violin and the bow ? know her as the busi- 

 ness young lady, the stenographer and "pretty 

 typewriter''? Of course, I did; but we had 

 never met before, and there she now stood, 

 looking just as I expected to see her — blue eyes 

 still. She said it was doubtful about her father 

 coming back that night. My only chance, 

 then, of seeing A. I. R. was to follow him up, 

 and I hurried back to the stable and got a rig as 

 soon as possible, and struck out upon a "trail " 

 (they have no roads in Florida), through an 

 uninhabited pine forest, for Norman's. When 

 we had gone some six or seven miles we met 

 the other buggy returning. I had seen some 

 pictures of A. I. R., and had so often in fancy 

 pictured him in my mind that I flattered myself 

 I should know him wherever we might meet. 

 But the little thin-visaged man, with short 

 gray (nearly white) beard, with a brimless fur 

 cap on (down here in Florida), and his coat but- 

 toned up tight around his throat— this man 

 whom I was meeting, sitting in a buggy by the 

 side of a broad-faced colored boy— did he look 

 any thing like the A. I. R. whom I expected to 

 meet? Not much. But as my driver said that 

 he was the man he had sent out to Norman's, 

 it could be no one else. I jumped out of my 

 buggy, and stepped forward to greet him. I 

 asked if he did not know me. I knew, of course, 

 that he did not, for we had never met before. 

 When I handed him my card, the name seemed 

 familiar to him, and I invited his colored driver 

 to get out and give me his place. As we drove 

 through the lonely pine woods back to St. 

 Petersburg, you may be sure I had a visit with 



