1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



9o 



«rs of tlie white sage, which are credited with 

 producing the finest-flavored honey in the world. 

 Madame Modjeska rises at six o'clock in the morn- 

 ing and is out all the forenoon superiiitending the 

 management of her cattle and bees. 



OURSELVES AND OUR NEIGHBORS. 



Blessed is the man whose streng-th is in thee.— 

 Ps. 84:5. 



It was about seven o'clock Saturday night. 

 Ernest and I were alone in the office. All the 

 rest of the busy workers had gone to their 

 homes. The office was still and quiet, and even 

 the machinery was still. Ernest and John are 

 much in the habit of choosing these still hours 

 for their correspondence. The former sat at 

 the phonograph, with a handful of letters, 

 while he dictated in loud clear tones the vari- 

 ous answers to many correspondents. In order 

 to have the phonograph come out clear and 

 distinct, one needs to speak slowly and plainly, 

 pronouncing the words very distinctly. I had 

 tinished looliing over a seed catalogue, and lis- 

 tened a little while to the replies made by 

 Ernest. It almost made one think of the farm- 

 ■ers' institute, where the speaker answers the 

 inquiries one after another, but makes his 

 answers so distinct and clear that all can hear 

 them, even when he speaks to a crowded audi- 

 €nce. Saturday night I always take a bath 

 before retiring, and I started down leisurely to 

 the engiue-room to open a valve, that steam 

 might go over to the house. There are some 

 little Roots to be bathed besides myself, so we 

 genei'ally commence rather early. As I went 

 throughthf different rooms, so warm and com- 

 fortalilc. I reflected that, although it was below 

 zero outside, no pipes had yet been frozen enough 

 to do any damage, and we were well fortified in 

 every direction for even more cold. An immense 

 heap of coal lay in front of the boilers; steam 

 pressure was up to 60 or 70 degrees: the wind- 

 mill tank was full of water; the great cistern 

 was full, and an iron pipe ran down to Cham- 

 pion Brook, where we find we get the best 

 water for running our boilers. The huge 

 steam-pump, with its massive pipes and cylin- 

 ders, stood all ready to spring into action if an 

 alarm of fire should be given. I was thinking 

 about all our appliances, how nicely they work; 

 and the thought came into mind, tliat perhaps 

 some time I should look back to this period of 

 my life, and possibly feel sorry that I did not 

 thank God oftener svhen I had so much reason 

 to be grateful. Yes, besides all these other 

 things. I ain enjoying a degree of health that I 

 think r never knew before; for my diet is still 

 by preference new milk, graham gems, and 

 honey. By the way, I am gradually losing the 

 desire for and the need of sleep just before din- 

 ner. I have tried to take my accustomed nap 

 for several days; but I feel so bright that it 

 seems to be no longer needed. "What is the 

 reason you can not sleep?'' a^kcd my wife; and 

 I replied, •■ Why. the trouble is, I am getting 

 ioo healtlnj." What a simple.' insignificant 

 medicine — new milk right from the cow! But 

 let us get back to that Saturday night. 



I had just opened my valve; and as I passed 

 out of tlie door leading into the engine-room 

 my eye glanced almost involuntarily to the 

 three pressure-gauges attached to our sprink- 

 ling system and waterworks. Two of them are 

 simply air-gauges. The pipes in our main 

 buildings are tilled with air instead of water, 

 and no water ever gets into these pipes until 

 some sort of fire-opens th(! air-valves; then the 

 water follows instantly. The air-valves indi- 

 cated the right pressure of between 30 and 40; 



but the middle dial— the one that registers the 

 water pressure from the great tank on the hill 

 — to my surprise and consternation showed only 

 about 15 lbs. of pressure, instead of 22. its nor- 

 mal state. What in the world did it mean, 

 that this pressure should be so much reduced 

 on this icy-cold night? I hastened to the stair- 

 way, where I could call Ernest. He dropped 

 his" phonograph pretty suddenly, and hastened 

 downstairs to examine the gauge. It seemed 

 that it had fallen a little more by the time we 

 got there. We got a lantern, and with nervous 

 haste began making examinations. Every 

 thing seemed to be all in perfect ti'im, and we 

 could discover no trace of escaping water any- 

 where. After looking all over inside, we visited 

 the hvdrants by wading through the drifted 

 snow to the points where they were located 

 outside. The clean white snow covered every 

 thing, and no sight or sound betrayed running 

 water. Then I made a visit down to the new 

 railroad. This is below all our grounds, and 

 escaping water must sooner or later come over 

 the bank down into the ditch beside the track. 

 Nothing of the kind was seen. I went back 

 and reported. Ernest suggested that it came 

 from the tank on the hill, and that the water 

 was so cold it froze up before it could get an 

 eighth of a mile from the top of the hill to 

 Champion Brook. I felt sure that this was 

 impossible, but finally made a pilgi'image 

 through the snowdrifts up to the tank (expect- 

 ing every minute to find a flood of water and 

 ice), and walked clear around it. That, like 

 the rest of our apparatus,. seemed to be in per- 

 fect trim. Then we went back to the boiler- 

 room. The pressure-gauge showed that at 

 least 500 barrels of water had got away while 

 we were making our investigations, and it 

 seemed to be going faster and faster. We had 

 been liard at work for an hour. We were both 

 sweaty, and I was tired out and beginning to 

 feel symptoms of my old nervous troubles. The 

 anxiety had much to do with it. But how 

 could one avoid feeling anxious when the last 

 drop of water must soon be gone from our 

 tanks, and our water-pipes, on which we de- 

 pended, would soon be empty and useless? Er- 

 nest directed me to watch things while he took 

 a lantern and went for the engineer. He came, 

 but was as much puzzled as ourselves. Once 

 before, the pipe leading down to Champion 

 Brook was, by some misunderstanding, left 

 open, and the big tank on the hill drained off 

 into the brook during one night. It seemed as 

 if there was no other place in the w.orld where 

 the water could get away; but the valve was 

 closed securely. I insisted it was broken; and, 

 as a further proof, I was sure I heard water 

 gurgling through the pipe. The engineer and 

 Ernest said it could not he broken; and to dem- 

 onstrate their belief they unscrewed a union 

 that separated the pipe, and let me look inside. 

 I was becoming more and, more nervous, and 

 incapable of using what little sense God has 

 seen fit to give me. Just then it came into my 

 mind with such vividness that it sounded as if 

 somebody were speaking: 



"Look here, old fellow. Does it not look a 

 little inconsistent, after all your preaching and 

 teaching, to see you in this fluster and worry? 

 yet during the whole past two hours you have 

 not even thought to ask for God's \visdom and 

 for his guidance in a matter where you all seem 

 to be inadequate to the occasion." 



I felt ashamed of myself, and began to pray. 

 Tht? fact is, our system of water and steam pii)es 

 has so accumulated from year to year that it 

 takes a man with considerable brains to keep 

 in mind the uses and piwposes of this vast com- 

 plication of pipes and valves, little and big. 

 Why. right around the steam-pump, where W(i 



