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GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Oct. 1. 



both of the above letters. May be God has 

 taken the mother away. If so. may the dear 

 Savior come between that father and son, and 

 cast out Satan, for it is all Satan's work, and 

 both father and son an' surely to be pitied. 



Well, when I was 17 I had formed my project 

 of going away from home. I was helping 

 father one Saturday afternoon, drawing corn- 

 fodder. Now, in those times I did not like 

 corn-fodder, nor horses nor pigs nor cattle, nor 

 muddy corn-fields. But I worked pretty well 

 that day. With much fear and trembling I 

 told my father what I wanted to do. Perhaps 

 we had talked it over in a general way some- 

 what before. I told him my plans, and that I 

 wanted a five-dollar bill to complete my outfit. 

 I wanted it that very day. He was silent for 

 quite a spell. Finally he stopped his work; 

 his face softened into a smile, and he took out 

 the old familiar leathern pocketbook. Uh how 

 much good it did me to see that smile! I knew 

 how scarce five- dollar bills were, and I knew 

 how he needed them to prepare for winter, for 

 my parents were comparatively poor in those 

 days. He surprised me somewhat by handing 

 me the money so readily, and made some 

 pleasant remark to the effect that, if my plan 

 ended in failure, I would learn something by 

 experience any way. Yes, I did. I got out of 

 money, and was sick at a hotel. But I was too 

 proud to write home, so I worked and got some 

 money, sent back to the hotel for my things, 

 and six months afterward I came home on a 

 visit. Oh what a delightful day that was! I 

 was a little better dressed than when I went 

 away; and. at least in my own estimation, I 

 was ever so much more of a man. The six 

 months away from home had been «, grand 

 school to me. I had learned something of the 

 wickedness of the -world; but the thought of 

 the home, the mother, the father, and sisters, 

 had held me pretty well from the evils I met. 

 Did my father do a wise thing in helping me to 

 go off when he needed me greatly at home? I 

 think he did. Most of the time I was not far 

 away from my older sisters. But I was loose 

 and free, and had a tussle in making my way 

 through the great selfish wtrld, as some people 

 call it. 



I am afraid, dear friend A. B. C, that you 

 have not taken just the best plan with your 

 boy. Please do not feel hard if I suggest that 

 you two have not been in touch as you might 

 have been. 1 know it is pretty hard to hold a 

 parent responsible for the sudden turns that a 

 boy in his teens may take; but above all things 

 I think a father should be careful to see that 

 there is harmony between him and his boy. 

 Never mind the honey he took. Do not ques- 

 tion whether he had fairly earned it or not. 

 Tell him it is all right, and do any thing or 

 sacrifice almost any thing to still preserve 

 friendly relations. A man should never quar- 

 rel with his wife. He should not talk about 

 her to the neighbors. He should be ashamed 

 to mention her faults to any living being. 

 Now, I think it should be pretty much the 

 same with his boy. If your iDoy is bad, do not 

 tell it to anijhody, unless it is to go to the 

 great God above and tell him your troubles as 

 you pray for your boy. Has not the boy got it 

 pretty nearly right when he says you two are 

 poorly calculated to live together — that is, such 

 has been the case? Now forgive me, dear 

 friend, for saying that such need be the case no 

 longer. There is a way by which we may be 

 changed over, and become different. "Ye 

 must be born again," so the Savior said. The 

 love of Jesus Christ can so baptize us over 

 anew that we shall be no longer the same we 

 were before. I wish I could feel, dear father, 



that you were praying for that boy, and that 

 that boy could be moved to remember you in 

 his prayers, for I believe that even a boy 

 prays sometimes, for even a boy at times has 

 thoughts and feelings that God accepts as a 

 prayer. When you two are praying for each 

 other, how quick will the new relations come! 

 — the harmony, the peace, the loving confidence, 

 that should always exist between father and 

 son! 



Now, dear readers, please do not imagine 

 that I am such a model father as 1 am holding 

 up to you. My conscience accuses me while I 

 write. But, may God be praised, I can, right 

 in my own home, find an illustration of what I 

 am trying to teach. 



These September days have been very warm 

 — yes, and the nights have been warm too. 

 Mrs. Root has mucn trouble in sleeping during 

 sultry nights. With the opening of school and 

 the approach of house-cleaning time, and other 

 things I need not mention, many cans have 

 come upon her. She has been greatly wearied 

 of late. When I rush over from business for 

 my ground meat or hot water, I find her flying 

 about from one thing to another with a speed 

 and untiling zeal that is often a rebuke to me. 

 She is toiling for those she loves. You suggest 

 hired help. There is work to be done in a 

 household that nobody can be hired to do. It 

 was at the close of one of the hottest days. I 

 knew that she was tired out, and that >he had 

 slept but very little the night before. Her 

 duties were almost ended; but a restless youth, 

 "almost a man," burst in with his boyish en- 

 thusiasm, and wanted something of mamma. 

 I was going to utter a protest; but they got ofT 

 together in another room. I peep, d in to re- 

 monstrate against it; but they seemed so busy, 

 and in such perfect harmony in their plans and 

 work, that I forebore scolding until I could look 

 on a little. I had once or twice been inquisi- 

 tive in regard to this new hobby of that "young 

 Root;" but neither mamma nor Iluber seemed 

 inclined to enlighten me. I had faith in them 

 both, however, to trust them and not insist. 

 Now, what do you think they were up to? 

 Why. mamma, tired out as she was. was fash- 

 ioning some sort of great thick mitten, padded 

 on the palm, so the wearer could catch a base- 

 ball, no matter how hard or how swift it was 

 thrown, and not hurt his hand. It had to be 

 just exactly so to please the boy, and nobody 

 but mother could do it. It was pretty late bed- 

 time when the thing was finished. Why should 

 I mention this trifling circumstance — some- 

 thing so natural and so common in almost 

 every household ? Because, dear parents and 

 dear children, it illustrates the point I am try- 

 ins to make. That boy and that mother have 

 always been a unit. She has stood by him 

 from his boyhood up: and I verily that, boy as 

 he is. he would stand by his mother through 

 fire and f/oort. Yes, I think the bond is so per- 

 fect that all the arts of the evil one— that all 

 the machinery of vice and dissipation could 

 never entice away that boy — at least, while his 

 mother is living to hold up a warning hand. 

 That same boy loves his father, and his father 

 loves him; but the bond of sympathy is not 

 like that between the boy and the mother. I 

 fear the father has never yet reached the point 

 where he would make the sacrifice that the 

 mother does, that he might be in touch with 

 the child. Had he come to me when I was tired 

 out and unfolded to me his plans for some- 

 thing about base-ball, I fear I should have said 

 that base-ball does not amount to very much 

 any way. and that it was time for us all to go 

 to bed. I fear I should not have been willing to 

 get down on the floor by that boy's side, and 



