1889 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



821 



chain until its collar had slipped around, 

 pulling the fur the wrong way, and tipping 

 one ear forward in a most comical sort of 

 way ; at the same time the honey had not 



HIS BEARSHIP CLIMBING A PICKET FENCE. 



ceased dripping from his eyelids. Mean- 

 while one of his hind feet was clawing 

 in vain to secure a foothold on the smooth 

 pickets. Finally he got on to a strip of 

 board and got over. lie did not say good-by 

 as I started off wilh the Kodak; but his 

 comical look, and his mischievous-looking 

 countenance, were ■■ better than a circus," 

 as the boys sometimes say. 



Now, little friends, 1 hope you as well as 

 Uncle Amos know a little more about bears 

 and wolves than you once did ; and while we 

 defend ourselves from their savage nature 

 and warlike claws, let us remember that 

 they are God's creatures, and, in one sense, 

 our neighbors. 



OFF TO THE OIL (?) WELLS. 



AUNT KATIE TAKES US OFF TO ANOTHER PICNIC 

 IN CALIFORNIA. 



"Wo B you all seemed to enjoy the trip we took up 

 9lM to Zaca Lake, suppose you go with us to-day 

 gm to the oil-wells near Port Harford. They are 

 ■**■ 70 miles away, so we will go on the excursion 

 train that runs there and back for one dol- 

 lar. Ernest is calling-, " Come, mamma, are you not 

 ready yet?" 



"I will take the lunch-basket: and, Lewis, you 

 start with the baby, while mamr.a picks up the 

 odds and ends, and fastens the doors." 



"As mamma has got every tiling done that she 

 can do until you all get out of the house, away you 

 go, and we will follow," says papa. 



"Hurry up, or you will be late," is the last we 

 hear from the youngsters as they rush out of sight, 

 headed for the depot. We shall get there in plenty 

 of time, so we will walk slow and get over the hub- 

 bub, and enjoy this lovely morning air. I especial- 

 ly appreciate the slow walk, for I have been pretty 

 busy ever since 6 a. m., and it is now 8; and then, 



again, a walk in the morning is rather a novelty in 

 my busy life. 



Well, here we are at the depot, and we shall have 

 to amuse ourselves by looking at the people coming 

 for 40 minutes yet. But that soon passes, as we 

 greet this one and that as they come up to the plat- 

 form. 



Toot! toot! sounds the engine, and up it comes, 

 gliding gracefully by, and stopping quietly just be- 

 yond the platform. In we all get, and soon we 

 start, not with the jerk, jerk, that used to be so try- 

 ing, but smoothly we go, gaining in speed until the 

 highest speed these narrow-gauge tracks will allow 

 is attained. Soon we get to a station, and slacken 

 up for a moment to give the station agent time to 

 signal stop or go on. We stop, as a couple of young 

 fellows wish to go with us. Theu on we go, rattliug 

 over bridges. Oh! bless me, isn't it pleasant riding 

 on the rails? At nearly all the stations and depots, 

 some one or more join our party. The young folks 

 keep up a constant chatter, while we of more se- 

 date and maturer years listen, and smile at their 

 sallies, without the trouble of thought. We just 

 rest and enjoy. Soon San Luis looms up in sight; 

 and when we stop, many get off the train and more 

 get on, so that, as we glide down the canon that 

 leads to the sea, where Port Harford is, we are 

 quite crowded; but good order prevails, and we 

 keep a sharp lookout for familiar landmarks. Here 

 we go, past the Catholic burying-ground, then a 

 bare rocky hillside seems to glide past, then the 

 large and handsomely arranged Protestant cemete- 

 ry appears. Then on, on, until "Oil Wells!" is 

 shouted. About half the people start; and when 

 the train stops, off we get. Baby's wraps and luncb- 

 baskeis are distributed, and we cross the little 

 bridges, walk under those grand old oaks and syca- 

 mores, and in three minutes we arrive at the bath- 

 house. 



"What! bath-houses?" says one; " do you bathe 

 in oil?" 



We laugh, having forgotten that all our party did 

 not know it was hot sulphur water we came to see, 

 and not oil. 



" No, we do not bathe in oil ; but do you see that 

 water pouring out of that six-inch pipe, up on that 

 platform?" 



" Yes." 



" Well, the company of men who owned this tract 

 of 100 acres thought that there was every indica- 

 tion of oil. You see, the mountain back of the well 

 is coal and slate formation. Well, they decided to 

 bore for oil, so they got an artesian-well outfit, and 

 commenced boring. When they got down about 

 400 feet they struck this hot sulphur water. They 

 shut it off, although it was a very strong stream, 

 and bored 500 feet more, but found nothing but the 

 hot sulphur water. So, as there are no warm baths 

 near here they decided to let the water run, and 

 they built that long bath-house, that plunge-bath 

 house, and the large hotel you see over there, and 

 then got the cars to stop and let passengers off at 

 their path, and now the place goes by the name of 

 Oil Wells. It is well patronized, especially on ex- 

 cursion days, which occur about every two weeks." 



The boys have rushed off to explore every place, 

 and to speak for a chance in the plunge. No bath- 

 tubs for them, but we speak for a tub and get it. 

 The water is just the right warmth to be delightful. 

 The baby thinks it a little hot, but gives only one or 

 two grunts, and then proceeds to paddle and splash 



