1893 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



259 



JAKE SMITH'S LETTERS. 



THAT "BRETH."' 



Mr. A. I. Glean- 

 i>i(/s;— Sum poei)le 

 is very stingy about 

 tell in what they 

 know. I aint. I like 

 to let uthers lurn 

 what ive lurnt. So I 

 make bold to use the 

 coUurabs of your as- 

 ^s^'^^^^T^^^^^^^-"'- teamed gernal to in- 

 <i^^SM: jiAg^^ - "^-> '<"- struck the vooth of 

 our land about bees. 

 Bees is different 

 kinds. Hunny bees, 

 bumbel bees, queen 

 bees, and I wood here 

 stop to explane that 

 there haint no king bees, jist queens, like it is 

 in England. And the bees thinks as much of 

 their queen as the subjecks of queen Victoria 

 think of her. They jist think the world of 

 her. Why, she doant have to feed 

 herself or wash her oan face. The 

 bees do it for her. She jist enjoys 

 life layin eggs and leadln out 

 swarms. 



But lie tell you more about queens 

 bineby. As I was a sayin, thay is 

 hunny bees, bumbel bees, queen bees, 

 drone bees, worker bees, quiltin 

 bees, huskin bees, and a bee in the 

 bonnet. That last is a figger of 

 speech, and means a man whicj^ has 

 invented a uoo kink into a hive, and 

 thinks the world wood stop agoin 

 round if he didnt tell evry buddy 

 about his invenshun. And heal git 

 you up in a corner, or git you by 

 the collar of your coat, and then heal 

 tock and tock and tock. 



Wunst 1 of that kind got aholt of 

 mo. He had invented a pain of glass 

 to put in the back of a hive, so he 

 cood sec the bi'os to work. I was git- 

 ting the old mare shod at the black- 

 smith shop, and he tackled me about 

 that pain of glass into the back of a 

 hive. He had a bad breth. I think 

 his stummich was out of repair. 

 After he had toald me all they was 

 to tell, and sum more besides. I be- 

 gun to back off from him. I .seed 

 my mistake then. He got aholt of 

 my coat coller; and thogh I made 

 sum attemp to back oft', he held on 

 and follered me up till I struck the 

 wall of the blacksmith shop. Then 

 he had me. It was no use to struggle 

 against fait. 



Imepirtywell up in the world, bein 

 sum 6 feet hie, but he was taller yit. 

 Tall and slim. Sumwhat consumpted lookin 

 He jist brung his face close down to mine, and 

 I had to stand and take it. Oh that breth! It 

 was offal. How I wisht the Atlantic otion was 

 betwixt us! Or the Pesiffick! Howl did wish 

 I had never tried to back off' from him, but 

 had pashiently endoored the faint aroma of 

 his breth that I receaved at the 1st respectful 

 distance! When he got his face cloast up to 

 mine, and the full idea of the strength of that 

 breth dawned upon me. I giv up then and there 

 that I had never experienced sitch a breth be- 

 fore. It resembled a cross between a skunk, a 

 billy goat, and a limburger cheese. 



Then I began to feel in my pockets to find a 

 peace of sassyfrast, or sum sitch thing to take 



the bad taist of that breth out of my mouth. 

 But I haddent a blame thing about my clothes. 

 Then I began to think what a dreadful thing it 

 wood be to die that way. And I cool see the 

 wimmen as they marched by the coffin, a lookin 

 at the corpse and aholdin their hangkarcheese 

 to their nose. For by this time I was satyourat- 

 ed. so to speak, with that breth. Not that I 

 cood reely see enny sitch thing, for as yit I was 

 a astandin agin the wall of the blacksmith shop. 

 And I began to think over ray past life, and I 

 wisht I had been kinder to my old woman. For 

 altho Betsy Smith had a tung in her head, she 

 means well, and they haint a man in 10 miles 

 has had better vittles than me. And in that 

 tryin our. I diddent feel like layin nothin up 

 agin Betsy. 



Jist then a tremenjous shower of sparks from 

 the anvil fioo all over us and skairt the old 

 mare so she jumpt nearly out of her skin. I took 

 my chants, and embraced my opperchunity to 

 brake loose and grab the creeter, and never stopt 

 till I was on her back and on my way home. 



That night I brung in more than the yousual 

 allowance of wood for the old woman, and piled 

 it more careful. Jake Smith. 



OH, THAT BKETHI 



P. S.— Much ablidged for the paper you sent 

 me. Yuve got the pickter of me to a dot. oanly 

 yuve marked the rong name under me. My 

 name's not Murray Heiss, it's Jake Smith. 



THE WHEEL AND ITS PROBABLE FUTURE. 



, GKEEN TELLS US SOMETHING ABOUT 

 ITS VALUE TO THE HEE-KEEPEK. 



Friend Root: — I have been greatly interested 

 in your experience with your late hobby, the 

 wheel. 1 am one of the crankiest cranks on 

 wheels myself, and it does me good to see such 

 missionary ^\ ork in that line. I am as firm a 



