1879 



GLEANINGS LN BEE CULTUEE. 



33 



not fancy. I got my friend Fred, of whom 

 I have often told you. to go in and talk to 

 them. He had gone through it all. and well 

 knew the transition from hitter hatred to a 

 forgiving spirit toward all humanity. He 

 told them how hard it was for him, to for- 

 give those who had wronged him, or at least 

 whom he had imagined to have wronged 

 him. and he told them too, how he had sat 

 in that same stone room and dwelt on these 

 things, and how much happier he felt, when 

 he resolved to forgive them all, and take 

 those pleasantly by the hand, whom he had 

 felt as if he never could forgive. 



I reason a great deal from past events, and 

 when I look upon the most hardened culprit 

 we have in our jails, and rememher Fred's 

 conversion. I think, perhaps he, too, may he- 

 come a sincere and humble Christian. And 

 when a stranger comes now. I fall to wonder- 

 ing whether he is not some one whom God 

 has sent. It is not the hoys in the jail alone 

 who refuse to take up their crosses and fol- 

 low Christ, hut we seem to he stubborn and 

 backward all around. 



3 be "SrcMenL 



[This department is to be kept for the benefit of 

 those who are dissatisfied; and when anything 1 is 

 amiss. I hope you will "talk risfit out." As a rule 

 we will omit names and addresses, to avoid being' 

 too personal.] 



fjjpBk EAR friend Root:— I have not received any bee- 

 j»||Jy} journal this month. For some reason or another 

 ±mz you don't send those bee books very regular. Ex- 

 pect you won't send any for 3 months, and then you 

 will send them all at once. If you do business in that 

 way. you do it on a pretty poor plan. If you can't 

 send the books a little more regular, and any one 

 has got to write to you every little while, you will 

 run short of signers. "That is too thin, you bet." 

 You have got a srood bee-journal, but be a little more 

 prompt in sending them. Write me a postal and 

 tell why you don't sond them more regular. I don't 

 know whether you overlook Lewis Beal's name or 

 not. Send more regular, Mr. Root, if vou will do so. 



Springport, Mich., Dec. 6, '78. Lewis Beal. 



The subscription clerk explained to friend 

 Beal that we had mailed every journal 

 promptly, except the Dec No. This one 

 was delayed by moving the printing office, 

 printing the voluminous index, etc.: but it 

 seems there was trouble some where else. 

 and now. friend Beal takes the Government 

 officers to task in the following quaint, good 

 natured way. 



Dear friend Root: I received your postal card 

 in due time, but l hain't got any bee-book yet, this 

 month. I don't know what is the reason. Them 

 postmasters and them tellers that attend to the 

 mail had ought to gel some bees in their wool, "you 

 bet:" maybe it would do them good: they had ought 

 to have a lot of them creatures after them, and 

 maybe the bee books wouldn't get lost. I don't 

 know whether it is your place to send me another 

 or not: you can do as you please about that. Them 

 post-masters had ought to have a scoldinsr, "you 

 bet": hadn't they, Mr. Root? Lewis Beal. 



Springport, Mich., Dec. 18, 1878. 



It takes a lot of hard work to get up the 

 Journals, friend Beal. but after they are 

 done, we have no earthly use for them', only 

 to hand them over to our subscribers, and so 

 we are just as anxious as you are that you 

 shall all have them at the very earliest possi- 



ble minute, "you bet." I am very sorry for 

 your delays, and will try and have the "ma- 

 chinery' 5 fixed up all around. 



CLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE^ 



J±. I. ROOT, 

 EDITOR AND PUBLISHER, 



MEDINA, OHIO. 



TEilMS! $1.00 PER YEAR, POST-PAID. 



zmhetdust^, j^nsr. 1, 1879. 



Thou wilt keep him in perfect peace, whose mind 

 is stayed on thee: because he trusteth in thee.— 

 Isaiah, xxvi, 3. 



Never mind if your bees are all covered with 

 snow. They are all the better for it. 



M. D. Dubois, of Newburgh, N. Y., speaks of a 

 swarm of bees clustering on a schooner's mast, 

 while sailing up the Hudson River, through the 

 Highlands, from which he infers that they do not al- 

 ways, at least, choose their home before swarming. 



My friends, I am in trouble: it is because I have 

 so many real good, pleasant, and profitable letters 

 from nearly all of you— letters that richly deserve a 

 place in Gleaning?, all of them, but they are so 

 long, that I cannot get in a tenth part of them. [ 

 have tried to select the best portions, and to con- 

 dense, but if I do bj, 1 shall spoil your special indi- 

 viduality, which is to me one of the most pleasing 

 things about any writer's work. I usually have 

 plenty of short letters for Heads of Grain, but this 

 year they seem to be all long, every one. Shall I 

 enlarge Gleanings? I do not think it best to have 

 the price more than a dollar, and I cannot afford a 

 larger Journal for that price, at present. Shall we 

 not all try to tell shorter stories? Or if you please, 

 send me several short ones instead of one great 

 long one. The short ones almost always find a place. 



OBITUARY NOTICES. 



In Somonauk. Monday, Nov. 25th, 1878, Charles 

 Herbert, son of Major Franklin and Lydia Ann Bliss, 

 aged 4 years, 4 months and 14 days. 



You will see by this, that we have lost a loved one. 

 We will never again hear that pleasant little voice 

 say "Pa, the bees is swarming" ; but God knows 

 best. Frank Bliss. 



Somonauk, 111., Dee. 12, '78. 



My daughters, LiiuU and Emma, owners of the 

 Memphis Apiary, died Sep. 7th and 8th, of yellow 

 fever. Mv wife also died Sep. 7th. Mr. J. Capehart 

 is also dead of same disease. My daughters managed 

 100 colonies and Mr. C. 200. C. H. Getchell. 



Memphis, Tenn., Dec. 9, 1878. 



We deeply sympathize with you, friend Getchell, 

 in your heavy affliction. From the letters we h?.ve 

 received at different times, from Miss Linda, we re- 

 gard her almost as a personal acquaintance. Among 

 the last was a pleasant one, about a smoker with a 

 bellows of tin, that her papa had made. God gives, 

 my friend, and God can take away. None but He 

 can give us comfort, amid trials like these. When- 

 ever I hear that one of our number is gone, I almost 

 invariably look back, and wonder if their last letters 

 received the kind and friendly answers they should 

 have had. 



