July, 1918 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



403 



" Two small boys 

 leeted from nowhere 



islowly walked out to have a look at what he 

 felt sure was his property. It was — and the 

 baggage man was entirely correct about the 

 stickiness, for honey seemed to exude from 

 every pore — if trunks can be said to have 

 pores. 



"What '11 I do with it? Can't you send it 

 on as it is?" he asked the disinterested bag- 

 gage man. "It's only honey that has got 

 loose somehow." 



"We certainly cannot!" he replied. 

 ' ' We can 't handle a piece of baggage in 

 that condition! Can't you wash it off or 

 something? There's a hydrant inside." 



Bud looked around him. The outlook was 

 not encouraging. Two small boys collected 

 fro m nowhere and 

 watched him with 

 eager interest. Bud 

 eyed them. 



"Look here, do 

 you boys want to 

 earn some money?" 

 "Sure thing!" 

 "Well, get two 

 buckets and carry 

 water from that fau- 

 . cet inside out here to 

 —i this trunk. Step live- 

 ly, and I '11 give you 

 o'- a dollar if you carry 

 all I need. What's 

 that? I don't care 

 where you get the buckets, just get them. ' ' 

 While the boys were gone, Bud took off 

 his coat, laying it with his parcel containing 

 the Teddy-bear and the silk on the edge of 

 the platform, rolled up his sleeves, and 

 opened the trunk. From the top edge of the 

 lifted lid, dripped the limpid sweetness, but 

 for the first time in his life Bud Tomlinson 

 did not stop to admire the color and texture 

 of his honey. The inside of the trunk lid 

 seemed to have been 

 painted with a thick 

 layer of honey, and 

 the contents of the 

 trunk swam in a 

 sticky sea! How 

 there could be suf- 

 ficient honey in one 

 five-gallon can to sur- 

 round and encase 

 every article in that 

 trunk remains a mys- 

 tery, but such was 

 " The contents of the the sad state, as you 

 trunk swam in a st.cky p.^^ably know from 

 experience. A little 

 honey goes a long way! 



For two solid hours Bud Tomlinson lifted 

 clothing from the trunk, dipped it into a 

 bucket, sloshed it up and down until most of 

 the stickiness had disappeared, and then 

 with legs wide apart wrung the clothes and 

 dropped them in a heap on newspapers 

 spread at one side of tlie offending trunk. 

 The boys enjoyed carrying bucket after 

 bucket of water, slopping it over their legs 

 as they came, and they were not in the 



least abashed by the audience which gather- 

 ed all too quickly for Mr. Bud Tomlinson. 

 He was not enjoying himself, but with 

 heroic fortitude he kept his eyes glued (or 

 perhaps I should say "honeyed") to his 

 work and made no reply to the facetious 

 youth who begged him with tears in his 

 voice to tell whether he was paying a bet 

 or was this the way he preferred to do his 

 washing. There was a cheer when the bap- 

 tism of the overcoat took place, and another 

 when he wrung the water from his best suit. 

 As for the books — never before were 

 Shakespeare 's Sonnets so cloyingly sweet, 

 never did bee books contain so much about 

 honey! These Bud discarded as beyond 

 hope of redemption from the stickiness 

 which had penetrated most of the leaves, 

 and the last he saw of them urchins were 

 scuffling for portions to lick. When every 

 thing was out of the 

 trunk, there was the 

 empty honey can 

 with the screw-top 

 still tightly on! He 

 knew he had made 

 that safe! But in the 

 side of the can was 

 a gaping hole made 

 by a nail protruding 

 from the side of the 

 trunk. This was no " Dipped it into a 

 comfort to Mr. Bud bucket, sloshed it up and 

 Tomlinson, for had do^n" 

 not his wife advised him to buy a new itrunk 

 before journeying again? 



To soothe his anguished feelings, Bud 

 lighted his pipe and sat on the platform, 

 swinging his feet, to rest and smoke while 

 the little boys poured their buckets full of 

 water into the now empty trunk. When it 

 seemed fairly clean inside, it was closed 

 and more water poured over the outside, so 

 that a fair-sized rivulet ran down the alley, 

 and helped to disperse the audience. Just 

 as the tobacco and the fact that the job was 

 nearly done were bringing balm to his soul, 

 Mr. Bud Tomljnson suddenly straightened 

 into action and with a yell he dashed for a 

 package floating lightly down the stream of 

 dirty water! It was his package, containing 

 one large white Teddy-bear, and one delicate 

 piece of blue silk! 



This was entirely too much for the equi- 

 librium of even the dignified Mr. Bud Tom- 

 linson, and he let go! He addressed no one 

 in particular, but the facetious youth and 

 the small boys who comprised his apprecia- 

 tive audience listened attentively to his re- 

 marks about trunks in general and their 

 ancestry, about honey and baggage maaters, 

 about the futility of attempting kind deeds, 

 and various other matters, and when it was 

 over Bud Tomlinson felt better. He hurled 

 and flung the damp garments from the heap 

 on the paving into the wet trunk and last 

 of all deposited on top a very wet Teddy- 

 bear and a soggy package of silk. Then he 

 went into the baggage room and checked 

 that trunk east. That's about all. 



