1896 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



823 



ed signs of returning consciousness. Mean- 

 while Alfaretta had been very quiet, watching 

 the sleeper with intense interest. As her 

 coherent remarks indicated, there was a mental 

 change. When Fred did arouse, though there 

 was the same vacant expression, other scenes 

 were evidently before him, for, to the surprise 

 of the watchers, he began to sing in a very low 

 weak tone: 



" The nig'ht is stormy and dark; 

 My lover is on the sea," etc. 



After a few moments of seeming reflection, 

 Alfaretta said in a whisper, "Mamma, what a 

 funny song! Iireally believe Fred is crazy." 



"How like! how like!" said Mr. Buell. 



" But strangest of all," said Mrs. Buell, " it is 

 getting near to a case of transposition." 

 1 For an entire week these conditions contin- 

 ued. The good people were worn out with 

 watching, and would have been entirely pros- 

 trated; but there was one encouraging aspect — 

 it was near their hearts. 



During Fred's most critical moments Alfaret- 

 ta seemed to almost regain her sanity; and 

 one day this was so pronounced that Mrs. Buell 

 clasped her in her arms, and said, "So much 

 like my former Alfaretta!" Hopes and fears 

 alternated; prayers ascended. 

 DAs the days wore on there were still more 

 favorable symptoms in Fred's condition; for 

 one morning he awoke, and, rising up on his 

 elbow, asked, quite rationally, "Where am I?" 

 But before his question could be answered he 

 lapsed again into the condition of dementia. < 



Fred was, however, full of vitality; and when 

 the crisis had been passed he began to mend- 

 not only in body, but in mind. With his recov, 

 ery, and the abatement of anxiety in the fam- 

 ily, Alfaretta lost all that she had gained, to 

 the deep sorrow of the parents. 



Just as soon as a boat could be trusted upon 

 the river, Mr. Ghering and Jose Silvera, who 

 was an expert with the oars, came down the 

 river to inform Mr. Buell of the catastrophe at 

 the butte, and of the loss of Fred and Matt. 

 Bu' his surprise was unbounded when he found 

 Fred alive, but, at the time of his visit, uncon- 

 scious. Mr. Ghering now became a frequent 

 visitor; and his services as nurse and watcher 

 gave great relief to both Mr. and Mrs. Buell. 

 After two months of confinement Fred was 

 able to make the return trip to the Ghering 

 ranch. 



His steps led him to the scene of his opera- 

 tions with the bees. The river was now run- 

 ning quietly where his apiary had been located, 

 and the only portion of the chalk butte that 

 remained reared a muddy front on the far side 

 of the river. 



"You ton't know how surprist we vas when 

 we went out that morning and found you had 

 been vashed away. We all felt so bad, that 



rlfer was so tearing mad, we say they drowndt 

 sure; then we feel very bad. It vas a miracle 

 von Profidence saft you; but I ton't understand 

 why Profidence dian't safe Matt too. Matt 

 Hogan vas one goot man, von splendid Chris- 

 tian." 



"Yes, dear generous Matt," said Fred, as he 

 wiped away his tears; " how I wish I had heed- 

 ed your advice, Mr. Ghering, and slept at the 

 ranch! Had I done so Matt would be alive 

 to-day; but regrets never mend mistakes. As 

 I told you, I thought the bluff the safest place; 

 but I have now learned the destructive power 

 of water." 



The loss of his friend, of his honey, his home, 

 and the upsetting of his plans, left Fred's mind 

 in a dejected and morbid condition. 



Mr. and Mrs. Buell discussed these symptoms, 

 and arrived at the conclusion that, unless he 

 was stirred to activity, he would also relapse 

 into dementia. 



" Fred," said Mr. Buell one evening, " I think 



ALFARETTA WAS A CONSTANT COMPANION: MK. 

 GHERING AT TIMES GAVE HIS AID. 



it would do you a great amount of good to 

 attend the State Fair at Sacramento. You are 

 unhappy, and dwelling too much upon past 

 occurrences." 



"You know, Mr. Buell, I had planned to at- 

 tend the fair, and had selected my honey 

 for an exhibit; but the honey has gone, Mr. 

 Buell — gone to Sacramento on the destructive 

 route. I have no spirit to follow it. Mr. 

 Ghering has a ditch to dig through his tule 

 swamp, and 1 think that is about as high a 

 sphere as I should aspire to— a clod to throw 

 clods." 



" Fred, I wish you would not talk in that 

 strain. Know you, Fred, that you may be 

 taken at your word, and a clod you will be. 

 He who aspires to be only a clod will certainly 

 reach the goal of his desires; and a person who 

 thus makes a clod of himself should be content 

 and never throw the odium upon a kind Provi- 

 dence who provides a higher and better sphere 

 of action. Please to consider seriously my ad- 



