640 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Sept. 1. 



EEPEIC^'^; 





O become acquainted with a 

 person of evident refine- 

 ment, having a knowledge 

 of the accomplishments of 

 the day, and to find that 

 person a lunatic, gives a 

 shock of pain; and when that person is a 

 beautiful maiden, created but a little lower 

 than an angel, we would tear away the fiendish 

 mask that hides the soul divine, and cast it to 

 i^ appropriate belongings with the swine. 



With feelings akin to these, only intensified 

 by relationship and love, Mr. and Mrs. Buell 

 and Fred had but little relish for their noonday 

 lunch. A few morsels suiBced for Fred, and he 

 hastened to the wharf to prepare the boat for 

 the two miles' journey to Dawson's. 



Once upon the water, the genial sky, balmy 

 air, and the easy motion of the boat, had their 

 pleasing effect, while, to cheer and encourage, 

 every little wavelet smiled upon them with 

 sparkles of sunshine. But they could not par- 

 take of the joys that nature tried to imr'art, 

 for they were on their way to a house of afllic- 

 tion, and their minds were kept upon somber 

 thoughts by Alfan-tta repeating at long inter- 

 vals, like the dread tolling of a bell, " Dead — 

 dead." 



Fred bint to the oars, and sent the boat 

 skimminp rppidly down stream. Upon round- 

 ing the pi int above Dawson's, and when the 

 cabin came into view, there was some stir of 

 men visible around it; and when the boat drew 

 up to the little wharf the Dawson urchins and 

 dogs came tearing down the gentle slope, and 

 it seemed that a chorus of shrill voices shouted, 

 "Dad's dead! dad's dead!" 

 " Dead, dead," echoed Alfaretta. 

 The news the urchins were so ready to impart, 

 though not unexpected, had a depressing eflPect 

 upon Fred. Mr. Buell stepped upon the wharf, 

 and, giving his hand to Mrs. Buell, aided her 

 to land. His invitation to Fred, to accompany 

 them, was unheeded for a moment; but, soon 

 recovering himself, he apologized, and said, 

 "No, I will stay with the boat and Alfaretta 

 until you return; but you know, Mr. Buell, 



P^^ 



Crystal roountmn nj; 



that any aid I can render will be cheerfully 

 given." 



"From the number of neighbors here." said 

 Mr. Buell, "I think there is aid enough;" and 

 they passed along to the house. 



Mrs. Dawson was entertaining several neigh- 

 boring women in the cabin with an account of 

 her trials during the past few days. When her 

 attention was called to the new arrivals she 

 met them with a quick nervous stride, and ex- 

 claimed boisterously, "Wall, I declar'! ef you 

 stuck-up folks aint come here tu ! didn't know's 

 yany of our neighbors cared fur us, either dead 

 or alive; but seein' as tu how dad had tu up 

 an die. all the neighbors seem to be mighty 

 interested." 



"Certainly, Mrs. Dawson," said Mr. Buell, in 

 a conciliatory tone; "when a neighbor is sick, 

 or dic!<. we know the family is in deep trouble; 

 and .»11 of your neighbors wish to give you aid 

 and consolation — that is why we are here." 



"Certainly." said Mrs. Dawson, in a mimick- 

 ing tone, and with a little bob of courtesy; 

 "but ef yeed a come her yisterday, when the 

 old man war a rarin about McBurger's ghost, 

 it would a ben more consolin'. As fur as the 

 trouble is concerned, he's dead, an' the trouble 

 is ended — leastwise as fur as this speer is con- 

 cerned." 



"It must be a great solace at such a time as 

 this to be so reconciled to your loss," said Mrs. 

 Buell. 



"Loss— loss!" replied Mrs. Dawson. "Wall, 

 now, d'y' suppose I've had ter knuckle under 

 his fist, and be knocked around this yer cabin, 

 an' half fed fur the last ten years, fur fun? 

 Yes, he war a bad man, an' has fleed from jus- 

 tice mor'n onst. an' I would a fleed from him but 

 fur the kids' sake. No, my purty mom, it aint 

 loss fur us — it's liberty;" and a tear actually 

 shone in the eye of the woman as she realized 

 her freedom. 



There was doubtless love in her heart at one 

 time, but now it was dead. 



Mr. and Mrs. Buell could hardly give conso- 

 lation under such circumstances. Any refer- 

 ence to the Deity, or religion was met with 

 scoffing. Mr. Buell knew, however, from the 

 teardrop, and her fidelity to her children, that 

 there was under this uncouth exterior a chord 

 that could be attuned to a better life; and, 

 though he had been rudely received to-day. he 

 resolved at the first opportunity to put into 



