1889 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



679 



25 cts. per pound in New York, and have no trouble 

 in getting this price. Anna Blanken, age 12. 



Jersey City, N. J , Aug. 1, 1880. 



A TALK TO THE CHILDREN. 



A LITTLE WOOLLY-HEADED BEEKEEPER AWAY 

 DOWN IN LOUISIANA. 



T HAVE been thinking a good deal about the 

 /fflf juveniles of late. The way it came about was 

 W this: I took out the head of a barrel that A. I. 



"*■ Root had sent us, containing honey, cases, etc. 

 It was the pretty nails, that I drew out with 

 the hammer, that pleased me so much. How smooth 

 and bright, and how nice they felt to my fingers— 

 so different from the rough ones I have been ac- 

 customed to handle! I hope that you will enjoy 

 wire nails as much as I do. These nails made me 

 think of what an old man once said to me : " My old 

 days are my best days. When I was young, and we 

 lost the fire, what a time we had to kindle it with 

 flint and tinder-box! and now we can so easily 

 strike a match! " I remember one of my cousins 

 telling me that their fire went out, and they lived 

 in a new country, far from neighbors, and that her 

 "daddy" had to fire a gun into some shavings to 

 kindle it. What I was thinking about, children, 

 was this: That you are going to live in a yet better 

 age than we are now living in. I thought about it 

 as I sat in my rocking-chair and whacked together 

 the pretty one-piece sections. How different our 

 honey is from what I used to eat, taken from log 

 gums, after the poor bees were smothered with 

 burning sulphur! It tasted mighty good, though; 

 and, didn't we have a licking good time for awhile, 

 although the comb was black, and honey mixed 

 with bee-bread? 



We enjoyed ourselves just as much as you do 

 now, and I sometimes think more, in going to 

 school in log houses, carrying our dinners, and 

 building playhouses at noon, visiting one another, 

 and treating with sumac berries passed around on 

 broken dishes. How delicious they were after 

 frost ! I was a child on the frontier, and there were 

 no apples but crabs; wild strawberries had a bet- 

 ter flavor than any tame ones I have ever tasted, 

 and plenty of blackberries and plums. 



By the way, I had a letter lately, from a lady 

 away down in Louisiana. I got acquainted with 

 her at New Orleans when I was at the bee conven- 

 tion, during the Exposition. Here is an extract: 

 "I am a raiser of orphan children. I have raised 

 five— three are with me now— one white and two 

 negroes— all bound to me, as that is the terms of 

 our taking them, in this State. I have had but one 

 girl in the lot, and she is with me now. 1 have two 

 boys of my own, and one white orphan boy. They 

 are smart, industrious bojs; but the little negro 

 boy is a treasure. He is twin with the girl I have, 

 but smaller and frail. They are both as black as coal. 

 The boy is my right hand in the bee-yard. He is 

 neatness itself, and keeps my things all in order. 

 The white boy and he do the marketing together. 

 They are each about ten years old." 



Children, how many of us have as good a reputa- 

 tion as this little African? Wouldn't you like to 

 gee him in the apiary, with his woolly head? I 

 should, I wish Mr. Root would get his picture, and 

 put it jn Gleanings, and the apiary with its beauti- 



ful Southern flowers, pomegranates, and figs. 

 Don't you? Mks. L. Harrison. 



Peoria, 111. 



Thanks, Mrs. Harrison. We have enjoy- 

 ed your talk very much. It would afford iis 

 great pleasure to make an engraving of the 

 little woolly-headed bee-keeper, and the 

 apiary with its beautiful Southern fiowers, 

 pomegranates, etc. Just tell your lady 

 friend in Louisiana to procure a photograph, 

 at our expense, and have the same forward- 

 ed direct to us. We should be glad if she 

 would also give us a short item to accompa- 

 ny the engraving. 



0ai^ pejiEg. 



And Jonathan caused David to swear again, be- 

 cause he loved him: for he loved him as he loved 

 his own soul.— I. Sam. 20: 17. 



SNCE in a while we see friendships 

 among men, somewhat like the friend- 

 ship of David and Jonathan, as ex- 

 pressed in our text. At least, a few 

 times in our lives we meet with those 

 in whom we have such perfect confidence 

 that nothing can shake it. There is a class 

 of people who seem fond of telling that even 

 such friends have been proved false ; but I 

 do not believe it. Whenever you meet a 

 man who seems always rehearsing the frail- 

 ties and wickednesses of his brother-men, 

 be a little slow in giving him your confidence. 

 The one who sees evil in his fellow-men, 

 very likely judges others by himself. In my 

 business relations I have found a good many 

 in whom I have such perfect confidence that 

 I should have no hesitation whatever in giv- 

 ing them my pocket-book, telling them to 

 use what they like, and I should never care 

 to count the money afterward to see what 

 they took. Their word would be just as 

 satisfactory, or more so, than an inspection 

 of the pocket-book. While it is true, that 

 we ought to be careful about putting so 

 much confidence in anybody, and while we 

 do best, perhaps, to wait till years have test- 

 ed and tried our friends, I think we ought 

 not to be backward in recognizing and ac- 

 cepting the good that is in our fellow-men, 

 when we find it. So much for a preface to 

 my little story. 



After 1 had visited the bee-keepers of 

 Boscobel, Wisconsin (as I will tell you about 

 elsewhere), I was on board the train again 

 for Richland Center, the principal point of 

 my visit. Part of the trip was to be made 

 on a caboose car attached to a freight train, 

 and it got along rather slowly. In my pock- 

 et was a letter from a friend at Orion, Wis. 

 In mapping out my trip, however, I decided 

 — or, rather, Ernest and John decided for 

 me— that I could not very well make Orion 

 without considerable delay. Below is the 

 letter I have been speaking of : 



Brother Root, Dear Sir:— Here I come, with an in- 

 vitation to you to come and see us at the Riverside 

 Bee-farm when you make your visit to friend Free- 

 born and our great hasswood belt. Come, brother 

 Root; come, if you can. I will lend you my Bible 

 while you are here, to read. I will sit down and 

 bear you read and, explain; in fact, ajl you have to 



