534 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



JUI-Y 1. 



tight as a bandbox. Not a bit of air nor light 

 could get in. A hundred bushels of potatoes 

 which lie had selected and saved for planting 

 were piled up in the cellar: and so cool was it 

 kept that scarcely a sprout had begun to show, 

 even though it was May. He raises principally 

 the Empire Staie; and every time I go past his 

 place late in the fall I enjoy looking at the 

 bright clean green foliage that is sure to be 

 seen in his potato-field just before frost. Some- 

 body told me that he had last season about 

 1400 bushels, for which he received over $1400. 

 You may say he was lucky in having a big 

 crop whpn there was a general scarcity: but I 

 tell you it was more hard thinking and prompt 

 acting at just the right time than it was luck. 



A little further on we came to the home of 

 L. B. Pierce, of Tallmadge, O. The initials 

 L. B. P. are so familiar to all who read our 

 agricultural papers that I shall hardly need to 

 introduce Mr. Pierce. He is a considerable 

 grower of strawberries as well as of other small 

 fruits, and his particular line of work seems to 

 be in putting strawberries on new ground just 

 reclaimed from the forest. The land in his 

 vicinity is worth perhaps forty or fifty dollars 

 an acre — that is, some of it can be bought for 

 that; but after friend P. has cleared it of trees, 

 stumps, and stones, and got on a crop of straw- 

 beriies, it would probably take several times 

 fifty to buy it. The fresh woods dirt mixed 

 with the sandy loam looked so soft and rich 

 and inviting that one could scarcely resist the 

 temptation to get down on his hands and knees 

 to get out the weeds and fix each plant in nice 

 trim to push ahead. Out of many thousands 

 of strawberry-plants put out at just about the 

 right time in spring, he is going to have hardly 

 a missing plant; and the way the great bushy 

 roots have pushed out in the black leafy mold 

 is enough to make anybody enthusiastic. 



Friend Pierce has not only in his writings 

 but by actual practice demonstrated the advan- 

 tage of having the grower deliver his berries 

 straight to the consumer. His chief part of the 

 berry business during fruiting time is to sell 

 them. His oldest boy looks after the picking 

 and general work. How could a strawberry- 

 grower get along without children of his own ? 

 In fact. I don't see how anybody gets along 

 very much in this world in the way of building 

 up a business unless he has children to back 

 him up and encourage him. Every grower has 

 ideas of his own, and methods and tools of his 

 own; and it is quite a satisfaction to go around 

 and see different enterprising and progressive 

 men, and compare notes. Friend Pierce is a most 

 untiring writer for the different agricultural 

 journals; and his writings are all from practice, 

 with very little theory mixed in. This is one rea- 

 son why they are so practical and helpful. As one 

 goes about on the grounds he sees here and 

 there a hundred different things that have 

 been described in the papers. When I got 

 around to my cousin's, D. E. Fenn's, Tallmadge 

 Center, it was raining. Perhaps I might ex- 

 plain that D. E. Fenn was almost ahead of 

 friend Terry with his covered barnyard. Some 

 years ago he decided that he did not want his 

 straw. Ills cattle, his manure, nor any thing 

 else, out in the weather over winter; so he 

 moved two old barns up near each other, and 

 then made a great roof so as to unite and cover 

 both. Under this immense roof he puts all his 

 straw, hay, grain, live siock, and every thing 

 else, and has room for all his manure, where he 

 keeps it on a plan similar to Terry's with the 

 covered barnyard. It was also pretty nearly 

 noon. I begged the privilege of taking my 

 accustomed nap just before dinner, while it 

 rained. Just as soon as I hinted my wishes I 

 was ushered into one of the daintiest little 



sleeping-rooms you ever did see. By the way, I 

 wonder whether anybody else has feltas I have, 

 that it is a real luxury to close your eyes for 

 sleep amid plc(if«tnt surr minding s. I do not 

 know whether you. my friend, are in the habit 

 of thanking God for your pleasant sleeping- 

 room or not; but if yours is a ffdr sample of 

 those that are placed at my service on my 

 wheeling raids, I think you ought to thank 

 God this minute for your sleeping-room, and 

 for the dear wife who keeps it all the while so 

 tidy and trim. Amid the patter of the rain- 

 drops I bade adieu to consciousness, and rested. 

 I have often said that nobody can relish a 

 drink of cool spring water as well as can the 

 wheelman or wheel-i«o?m(n, if you choose (for 

 wheel-wo)(ic?i are crowding close upon our 

 heels). And now I wish to say that one who 

 has never ridden a wheel can hardly appreciate 

 the delicious sense of a restful sleep. In just 

 three-quarters of an hour, as it was the day 

 before. I was fully alive, with all my energies 

 and strength at their best. Why, of late it just 

 makes me feel happy to swing my arms and 

 inflate my chest, i feel proud of the strength 

 that God has lately seen fit to give me. Infor- 

 mation that dinner was just ready was another 

 piece of news that made me inwardly thank 

 God; and in a minute more I was invited to 

 thank him out loud. My cousin commenced 

 making some apology by saying that she did 

 not happen to have any thing in the house 

 that morning ready, and so I would have to 

 put up with — just at this juncture I stopped 

 her, telling her that I was just thinking that 

 Mrs. Root must get the recipe for that delicious 

 potato soup. Well, we had so much talk about 

 it that I don't believe I got the recipe in full; 

 but she said the soup was made of potatoes and 

 mutton broth. May be your wife knows how 

 to make the same kind. If she does not, sister 

 Fenn will have to explain. 



Had it been in Medina County, I should 

 hardly have dared lo start out on the roads. 

 But they have coalmines around Tallmadge, 

 and I noticed that the walks along by the 

 roadside were made of slack coal. Now, there 

 is not any thing nicer to run a wheel on, to my 

 notion, than walks of this kind. Fine gravel, 

 without any stones larger than a bean, for 

 instance, will do almost as well; but loose peb- 

 bles are rather detrimental. For a while it 

 was rather too wet to get along; but I followed 

 the roadside paths, executed some gymnastic 

 maneuvers now and then when the foot-path 

 crossed a ditch or went down steps, but on the 

 whole I got on very nicely for several miles; 

 then the roads began to get dryer and dryer, 

 and pretty soon it was dusty again. Part of the 

 way between Cuyahoga Falls and Hudson they 

 have a graveled road, made some two years ago. 

 I tell you, wheelmen can appreciate roads like 

 that one, through a sandy country, or during a 

 muddy time in any country. The minute I 

 struck that graveled road it seemed as if I 

 should fly the rest of the way. I actually did 

 run for several miles faster than the wind. 

 For instance, when I started on the graveled 

 road there was quite a little breeze blowing 

 against my back, from the south. I said to 

 myself, " Now, old fellow, you are not going to 

 have any air at all this very hot day;" and 

 when my speed had reached exactly that of the 

 wind, there was. as I expected, no breeze, and 

 it was a dead calm. As the road was so nice, 

 however, I put on a little more strength, and 

 soon doubled my former speed. Then a deli- 

 cious cool breeze sprang up from the noHh — 

 that is. it seemed so. I slacked up, and then 

 there was no breeze at all; then I alighted to 

 prove it, and there was the same gentle breeze, 

 clear and distinct, from the south. So you see I 



