1902 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



481 



understand in detail what he is saying. I am never 

 happier than when talking to her when I come home. 

 She is the one I tell all the news to. I tell her first ; it 

 gives me great experience along the lines you men- 

 tioned. Sometimes the light doesn't shine just right, 

 or I am tired, and do not move my lips enough, or have 

 my face turned so she can not see my mouth right; and 

 a dozen other little things go wrong to try us both ; 

 but so far I am happiest when with her. 



Sometimes I am afraid of myself that it will not 

 hold out. I want it to, and trust it will. She is all the 

 world to me. She is reading all you write, goes with 

 you down to the factory, talks to you as you go about 

 the building, goes back to the house with you to see if 

 you get in Mrs. Root's way. She went with you both 

 up to Michigan, and helped you clear off that farm 

 and build that house. But she's puzzled about that 

 trapdoor. But an3'how, every time she comes back 

 she says, "I tell you, hubby, Bro. Root's a pretty fine 

 fellow." But enough of this. 



I know a family where for years the husband has 

 never spoken a word at the table in praise of a thing 

 on it ; but don't think he doesn't say any thing. There 

 is scarcely a meal when he does not criticise some- 

 thing. Whenever he speaks about the food it is to 

 find fault with it. When he can't find fault with it he 

 doesn't say any thing. It is very trying to a woman 

 to work hard over a hot stove to prepare a meal, know- 

 ing it will not be appreciated by the men. But how 

 cheerily she can go about it when she knows there 

 ■will be words of praise for it. Those little "pet" 

 words at the table from him for whom she has done it 

 all do her a great deal more real good than paying off 

 the mortgage on the farm. Many a poor wife is starv- 

 ing to death in the middle of acres over which she 

 can't see, starving for a kind word from hira who 

 promised to love and cherish her. One thing more. 

 1 was asked once what I thought the unpardonable 

 sin was. I replied I did not know unless it was that 

 which a man commits by not coming to his meals 

 promptly when they are ready. I do think of all the 

 mean, contemptible things a man can be guilty of. this 

 exceeds them all. It is done much, and about ninety 

 per cent of it is contrariness, the rest unavoidable, 

 perhaps. How often have I heard the man say, when 

 the bell would ring the second or third time, " Oh ! 

 well, I'll come when I get ready." If I were the court 

 I would make this offense a cause for divorce with all 

 the alimony she desired, and no questions asked. 



Two things in your article I wish to notice as being 

 of especial interest to me. One is where you say. 

 " The memory' of this thing I am telling about has 

 made me afraid." You never said a thing in all your 

 life that got as close to me as that. The other is that 

 you are tili years old — only 62 — and here I've been fret- 

 ting, thinking you were away up near a hundred, and 

 would soon be gone, and we would have no more 

 Home papers. But you're young yet, and will live a 

 long time, to write and talk as only A. I. Root can. 



I am minded to write to the Rural New-Yorker, 

 American Agriculturist, and Ohio Farmer, and urge 

 them to copy your letter ; and I suggest that Krnest 

 print it in pamphlet just as it is. I'll help put it in 

 every home in the land, for it is true. God is good ; 

 his great love is grand. 



There will come one blessed morning — 



It will shine for you and me ; 

 For brighter are the heavenly glories, 



And we'll be there to see. 



Wagram, O., Dec. 



Frank M'Glade. 



Many thanks, dear brother, for your ex- 

 ceedingly kind words, and for your bright, 

 breezy, inspiring letter. Give my kindest 

 regards to that good wife, and tell her the 

 " trapdoor " she mentions was described in 

 a former number. We stored our drj' wood 

 under the cabin, not having any better 

 place to put it. One stormy evening Mrs. 

 Root suggested that, if I could make a trap- 

 door through the floor, right in front of the 

 stove-door, we could get our dry wood with- 

 out going out in the storm at all. With a 

 few carpenter's tools which we always keep 

 in the house I made a trapdoor that evening; 

 and now we can raise this trapdoor and 

 lift the wood from the pile under the floor 

 right into the stov'e — no litter or dropping of 



dust on the floor. When I was keeping 

 bachelor's hall a few weeks ago, whenever 

 I wanted to sweep up dust and ashes from 

 under the stove I just raised the trapdoor 

 and swept every thing down into the " cel- 

 lar." Of course, I am' not recommending 

 this plan for homes in general, but it does 

 very well for a summer cottage or a cabin 

 in the woods. 



Once more accept my thanks for suggest- 

 ing to me your beautiful text. When I 

 wrote my Home paper to husbands about 

 loving their wives I overlooked or had en- 

 tirely forgotten the fact that the Bible con- 

 tains any thing that so perfectly covers the 

 ground and emphasizes the very important 

 thing I was talking about. Dear brother, 

 I rejoice that I have been able, through 

 Christ Jesus, to bring happiness into your 

 home; and I assure you once more that your 

 bright letter has brought courage, hope, 

 and inspiration to my life. What a beau- 

 tiful world to live in this is if we only find 

 it out and grasp the great privileges that 

 the loving Father has placed all round 

 about us within easy reach! 



CORRUGATED TRANSLUCENT GLASS FOR 

 GREENHOUSES. 



Monday ?iight, April _'/.— Mrs. Root and 

 I were in Grand Rapids over night on our 

 way to that cabin in the woods. As our 

 train did not leave until 7:55 a.m., by get- 

 ting up at daylight I had a chance to visit 

 Eugene Davis, about four miles from the 

 hotel. I got lost in that big city, as usual, 

 but found friend D. 'sgreenhouse between five 

 and six o'clock. At first, as I got a glimpse 

 of the immense structure I thought some 

 "syndicate" had started an opposition 

 lettuce-plant, and so I asked a passer-by: 



"Who owns those great greenhouses, 

 please, over there at the foot of the hill? " 



"Why, that establishment belongs to 

 Eugene Davis. He has been located there 

 for years. ' ' 



" Why, I didn't know he had built on so 

 large a scale when he took down his old 

 houses last fall." 



" Oh! he is well fixed, and he makes lots 

 of money, I tell you; and he ought to, for he 

 is a ' worker. ' " 



They all urged me to sit down to break- 

 fast; but of late, when I take a wheelride 

 "before breakfast" I always have break- 

 fast y?r.y/'/ and in a great city I can get a 

 meal any time, even just at daylight, with- 

 out any grumbling. 



There are three houses, 30 feet wide and 

 480 feet long, and a fourth house nearly as 

 long. There are no division walls, so he 

 has a glass-covered field almost 100 by 500 



