188^ 



GLfiAKlNGS IN BEE CULTUMli. 



69? 



there seemed to be quite a little Water ; and 

 one of the boys told me that it ran in there 

 as fast as they scooped it out. I noticed 

 something of a depression, and asked Mr. 

 Walker if he didn't find tlie rock there. lie 

 replied that lie did not — at least, nothing 

 hardly solid encugh to be called a rock. It 

 was a sort of blue clay that could be whittled 

 into fantastic shapes with a knife. In fact, 

 there is now on our numtlepiece a little 

 Bible that I carved out with my penknife, 

 of soft shale, and the children had often 

 amused themselves by carving figures of 

 this material. Well, when Henry told me 

 that the water came in at this spot as fast as 

 they scooped it out, I pulled off my shoes, 

 waded in, and took the pail. I ladled it out 

 for the boys while they passed it to others on 

 the bank. The bottom of the cavity seemed 

 to be softer and softer as I scraped it with 

 the edge of the tin pail. Finally I scooped 

 through into some beautiful yielding gray 

 and white river sand, apparently, and out 

 of this sand was water springing forth, 

 something in the language of the text — 

 "• For in the wilderness shall waters break 

 out, and streams in the desert."' Our gar- 

 den was looking very much like a desert just 

 then under the influence of the scorching 

 July sun. When they got all tlie water 

 they wanted I scooped out the sand, and 

 threw it on ttie banks of the stream, tlien 

 threw the surplus water away down stream 

 until I stood in a little well, perhaps two 

 feet deep. By holding my pail up near the 

 side whence the water flowed out of the 

 sand, it was filled up quickly. I was afraid 

 it could not be true ; that is, I hadn't faith 

 to believe that it would hold out. Again 

 and again I filled it. Finally I pulled out 

 my Waterbury watch, even though my 

 fingers were somewhat muddy ; and while I 

 timed the filling of the pail, my hand fairly 

 trembled with excitement. There was no 

 mistake about it. God had given us a 

 spring, and one that poured forth beautiful 

 pure water at the rate of a three-gallon pail- 

 ful a minute. How quickly the figures be- 

 gan to run across my mind's eye — 8 gallons 

 a minute is ISO gallons an hour; and calling 

 HO gallons a barrel, we have G barrels during 

 every hour of the '.H ; 1-44 barrels of water in 

 a day ! Can it be possible ! A large iron 

 tank was brought and placed on the bank 

 on the side of the creek. A new pitcher 

 pump which Ernest had purchased to put 

 in his new house was brought down and 

 screwed to an iron pipe. Then Henry 

 mounted a dry-goods box on the bank, and 



worked until the tank was full. As the 

 spring showed no traces of giving out, a 

 piece of hose used in our greenhouse was 

 procured ; and by folding one end over the 

 tank so as to have a siphon, we soon had a 

 stream of living water flowing between the 

 rows of celery. As we had already been 

 waiting some weeks for a rain, that we 

 might put out some celeiy-plants, we decide 

 ed to wait no longer. One of the boys, with 

 the wheel-hoe before mentioned, made some 

 nice little furrows very (juickly. With the 

 hose v/e then carried the water to the high- 

 est point in the furrow, and let it flow both 

 ways. Wlien the furrow was pretty well 

 soaked its whole length, our plants were set 

 out; and although the burning July sun 

 blazed right on to them, they took hold and 

 grew^ as well as any celery-plants I ever saw. 

 The merits of spring water were well es- 

 tablished. Henry found, however, that he 

 could, with his pitcher-pump, draw moi'e 

 than a pailful a minute, so that a beautiful 

 live spring was seen bubbling forth in that 

 hole I had scooped out in the creek bottom. 

 The boys were by this time in full sympathy 

 with the experiment, and the quicksand 

 was scooped out until the whole rock was 

 found, perhaps a foot below the clay. Into 

 this rock we chipped a hole perhaps a foot 

 deeper, and now we had about two pailfuls 

 of wattr a minute ; and, best of all, when 

 the pump stopped working, the cavity 

 speedily filled up, and living water was flow- 

 ing forth down the heretofore dried-up 

 channel. When our proof-reader, Mr. W. 

 P. Root (who is also organist during our 

 noon meeting), asked me to look into the 85th 

 chapter of Isaiah for something to read for 

 our noon service, I was almost startled to 

 find these words : "■ And the parched ground 

 shall become a pool, and the thirsty land 

 springs of water." Here was the water, and 

 all that was needed to get it was to scrape 

 the bottom of that old dry channel with 

 nothing but a tin pail. 



I had not dared to ask God to send me a 

 spring where there were no indications that 

 there might be one ; but in his loving kind- 

 ness he has given us something we did not 

 even ask for. He knew I wanted it, how- 

 ever, and therefore he gave it ; but it was, 

 as I believe, because he expected me to 

 make good use of it. One of my neighbors 

 hearing of it, came down to see the spring 

 we were ; rejoicing over, and said that his 

 cows were out of water, and he had just 

 been wondering what he should do. 

 Through his farm ran a creek just like 



