286 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Apr. 1 



fAmm 



RAMBLE 199. 



Troubles with a New Language ; Mr. Brown, of Tulipan ; Glimpses of Life in tlie Tropics. 



BY RAMBLER. 



When a lone traveler from the States 

 drops into a city like Havana there is an- 

 other peculiarity that strikes him with con- 

 siderable force. His tongue does not fit at 

 all with nine-tenths of the tongues he meets. 

 When several full-grown men are in turn 

 asked a civil question in English, and they 

 stare at you, and repeat a jargon of words 

 you do not understand, with many motions 

 of the hands, and so rapid as to sound 

 about like hail pattering on a tin roof, you 

 begin to realize, what a wretched time the 

 confusion of tongues caused at the tower of 

 Babel. But I did not worry a bit. I rath- 

 er enjoyed the situation. It was something 

 new and novel. As a natural outcome from 

 such a condition the traveler will seek his 

 own, or, in other words, "birds of a feather 

 will flock together," and I was temporarily 

 quartered at Hotel Thrower, where patrons 

 are all Americans, and can speak a civil- 

 ized language. I was not slow to talk about 

 honey matters, and had not talked far with 

 Mr. Thrower before he remarked, "If you 

 are a honey-man you must see Mr. Brown, 

 of Tulipan," and he gave me directions to 

 find him in the suburbs of the city. A 

 short time after, I was talking with Mrs. 

 Thrower, and she "throwed " the same ad- 

 vice to me: "You must see Mr. Brown, the 

 great bee-man at Tulipan. Why," said 

 she, with enthusiasm, "we had a delight- 

 ful basket picnic there last Fourth of July. 

 A great affair it was too — honey all we 

 could eat; speeches, flowers, and the hum 

 of the bees under the palm-trees." 



Dr. James Warner, an American, is a 

 bee-keeper of note as well as a popular and 

 successful dentist of many years' standing 

 in this city. While spending a very pleas- 

 ant evening with him he also propounded 

 the question, "Have you seen Mr. Brown, 

 of Tulipan?" 



Mrs. Warner also, soon after, entered the 

 room, and in the course of conversation 

 said, "You must see Mr. Brown, of Tuli- 

 pan." 



Then there is the Rev. Mr. Herrick of 

 the Congregational mission in Havana, he- 

 roically hoeing his row, digging up tares of 



rank growth. We had not conversed long 

 before the advice came, "You must see Mr. 

 Brown, of Tulipan." His sou and then his 

 wife were introduced to me, and it was 

 again, "You must see Mr. Brown, of Tuli- 

 pan." 



I was attracted to a restaurant because 

 it bore in large letters, "California Restau- 

 rant." Charley Chinaman, a round-faced 

 jolly fellow, was manager. We swapped 

 ideas about California; and when I men- 

 tioned honej' matters he remarked, "Oh, 

 I'yes ! honey, honey ; I'you kl'now Mr. 

 Blown, of Tluliplan? Oh! ha— I'you must 

 slee Mr. Blown; him gleat blee-man — ha- 

 ha." 



Certainly I wanted to see Mr. Brown; 

 and when the opportunity came for me to 

 go to Tulipan I had forgotten my directions; 

 and, though on the Prado, where hundreds 

 of people were passing, I knew I should 

 have to ask many before getting the infor- 



" SHE WALTZED UP IN ERONT OE ME. 



