1890 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



607 



strapped to the machine an ordinary suit of 

 clothes for Sundays, and— yes, there is the 

 Kodak under the seat. There goes the 

 whistle, and the train is here. Jacob, who 

 traveled 400 miles last summer through 

 Michigan and Ohio, is ready to help me get 

 the wheel on the train, for most companies 

 won't check bicycles. There, the train is 

 moving, and I scramble for the car-steps. 

 Father gives me a paternal grasp of the 

 hand, and looks a little worried. Mother 

 remarked at the table that she was afraid 

 that I would overdo on the bicycle ; or, 

 from the frequent change of drinking-water, 

 become sick. Perhaps father is thinking of 

 the same thing. I will be very careful. 



I am in Cleveland now, and my bicycle 

 has been checked as far as Buffalo, on the 

 Lake Shore. The agent says he doesn't 

 know whether the N. Y. C. will or not from 

 Buffalo to Syracuse. I get a sleeping-car 

 ticket, and then delight (V) myself with the 

 thought of how nice it will be to get up 

 from the sleeper a little after midnight to 

 have my wheel re-checked or something 

 else. 



I don't sleep very well, for fear the sleep- 

 ing-car porter will forget to wrjke me up at 

 the proper time. I yawn and stretch, and 

 think how nice (?) it will be to make a bi- 

 cycle trip from Syracuse among bee-keepers, 

 with my wheel in Buffalo. The weary hours 

 wear by, and finally, by squinting at my 

 watch by the dim light, I guess it is about 

 time to get up. I am all dressed when the 

 porter punches and says, " Hurry up and 

 get up, boss, for we're near Buffalo." The 

 train has no sooner stopped than I glance at 

 the name of the car 1 am on, and then run 

 forward to the baggage-car. The train 

 waits but a few minutes, and the baggage- 

 man says the wheel can't be taken if there 

 is lots of baggage. I hang around and par- 

 ley with him while 1 try to keep watch of 

 my sleeper, which I see is switching on to 

 another track. Finally the railroad official 

 asks for the check on the bicycle, which had 

 been put on by the Lake Shore Co. Oh 

 dear 1 oh dear '. I can't find it I Yes, here it is. 

 I remembered then that Jacob said, '•'• If the 

 agent is ' obstreperous,' offer him a quarter." 

 I did so, and then handed him another quar- 

 ter to take good care of it and not bang it 

 around. The baggage-man is very obliging. 

 His face shows that there is plenty of room 

 in the car, and that he will see "that it is 

 safely delivered in Syracuse. The other 

 baggage-man called out, "You didn't give 

 me no quarters, and I brought it to Buffalo.'" 



" Yes," I say, " but your company checked 

 it." I have no time to settle with another 

 man, for my sleeper is — where ? I am on 

 the other horn of the dilemma; viz., a bi- 

 cycle in Syracuse, but the rider still in Buf- 

 falo. I race up and down that immense 

 depot, looking for a sleeper with the right 

 name. Over there is one just going out on 

 the end of a long train. Yes, it is the right 

 one. In a few minutes I am asleep, because 

 both horns of the dilemma are out of the 

 way. 



Thursday, 7th. — I am in Syracuse on my 

 bicycle, both of us unharmed by the contin- 

 gency of the night before. The roads and 



scenery are beautiful. The wheel makes 

 not the slightest noise ; and if ever I felt 

 enchanted, it is on this bright cool morning, 

 riying, as it were, to Skaneateles, 25 miles 

 distant. 



13 MILES OUT. 



Oh dear ! There's a hill a mile long, and 

 a steep one ; and, worse than all, it's stony 

 and rough. I dismount and push up hill. 

 1 don't feel very much " enchanted" now. 

 The sun is hot, and I am sticky with sweat, 

 and the exhilaration of " fiying '" is well 

 nigh spent. I am on top of the hill now, 

 and am spinning through the country. It's 

 lots of fun to cycle. 



AT SKANKATELES. 



I have gone 25 miles in a little over three 

 hours. I am not fatigued. The beautiful 

 Skaneateles Lake is spread before me. The 

 air is delightfully fresh after a ride. The 

 water at the dock is as clear as crystal, and 

 I can see good-sized fish in the water 12 feet 

 deep. A beautiful little steamer will leave 

 soon, and I board it for Jiorodino, the home 

 of G. M. Doolittle. On the right are pleas- 

 ure-resorts on the rising shores ; over to the 

 left is Borodino. It looks as if it might be 

 a pretty place. It's too dark now, or I 

 would take a photograph with the Kodak. 



Ernest. 



5F@B^CC6 C0MMN. 



THE INFLUENCE OF THE TOBACCO COLUMN IN THE 

 FAMILY. 



I notice in Gleanings that you give a smoker to 

 any person who stops using- tobacco. I have stop- 

 ped, and I thought I would ask you to send me one. 

 I agree to pay you 75 cents for it should I again 

 commence. My father is a subscriber to Glean- 

 ings. He has about 20 colonies of bees, and a 

 smoker would be a welcome present. 



Waverly, Neb., June 20. Chas. D. Gillham. 



I like your efforts to get people to quit using to- 

 bacco. After seeing your offer to give a smoker if 

 any one would quit using tobacco, I have made up 

 my mind to quit using it in any shape; and if I evCF 

 break my pledge I will send you $1.00 to pay for it. 



Darien, N. Y., July 1. F. L. Wotton. 



PLEDGES NEVER TO USE THE WEED AGAIN. 



Mr. A'irgil J. Seymour, who Is a man of 60 years, 

 pledges himself never to use tobacco in any form. 

 Please send him a smoker; and If he uses the weed 

 again he pledges himself to pay for the smoker. 



Nunica, Mich., July 3. Mrs. E. C. Reid. 



ONE WHO HAS USED THE WEED 3d YEARS, AND 

 QUITS. 



Having taken more interest each time I have 

 read your Tobacco Column, I have made up my 

 mind to give up the use of tobacco. I have used 

 the weed, in smoking only, for the last 20 years, 

 and will pay you for the smoker if I touch it again. 



Sydney, Australia, June 3. N. LeRoy Tracy. 



I have quit the use of tobacco, and I promise to. 

 pay tor the smoker if I ever use it again. 

 Camden, Mich. Frank Kunkle. 



