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so all through, Doolittle practices what 

 he preaches. 



' • You have 3'our apiary in an or- 

 chard. I believe I like that better 

 than grapevines." 



" I don't lilie too much shade, said 

 Mr. D. " I have noticed that those 

 cdlouies under those ver}' heavy shade 

 trees do not breed up as early, or do 

 as well as those less shaded. There 

 are two trees " (pointing to two very 

 densely foliaged apple-trees) " that I 

 shall have to cut out." 



About this time Mrs. Doolittle de- 

 sired him to get some vegetables from 

 the garden. In the meantime I got 

 off upon high ground and took views 

 of the apiary, house, and general premi- 

 ses. The bee-cave had "caved" in 

 recently, on account of the moisture 

 from the bees rotting the boards. To 

 prevent any i-e-occurrence of such a 

 thing, Mr. D. proposes to use flagging 

 for root-boards, and then cover with 

 dirt as before. 



At dinner we had one of those un- 

 conventional bee-talks, in company 

 with another bee-keeper whose name I 

 do not now recall, but who happened 

 to be visiting Mr. D. at the same time ; 

 and even after dinner there were so 

 many things to talk about that it was 

 hard to break away. 



I oiled my bicycle, fastened the 

 camera under the seat, and was soon 

 on my way, spinning past the shores of 

 another beautiful lake, Otisco by name. 

 This lake, like Skaneateles, is only a 

 short distance from Mr. Doolittle's 

 home. After leaving the lake I wend- 

 ed my way to Marcellus. the home of 

 a once prominent bee-keeper. I con- 

 tinued on my journey, passing teams, 

 until I found myself back in Syracuse. 

 I made the distance in about three 

 hours. I remained in the city over 

 night. Next morning I was In doubt 

 as to whether I should take the train 

 or the wheel. My next run was to be 

 a long one, and I had thought of tak- 

 ing the cars to save time. 



As I paid my bill at the hotel, the 

 clerk told me that a " strike " on the 

 New York Central railroad had been 

 inaugurated during the night, and that 

 it was doubtful whether any trains 

 would run during the day. As far as 

 / was concerned, I did not care much. 

 As the depot was near at hand, I went 

 over to satisfy my curiosity. Yes, the 

 trains were stopped, and the agents 

 would sell no tickets to would-be pas- 

 sengers. The strikers were scattered 

 here and there. A company of militia 

 were stationed at the depot. One pas- 

 senger was cursing and swearing. He 

 had got to make an appointment, and 

 his auger knew no bounds." 



" I wish I were fixed as you are," 

 addressing me as he saw the bicycle. 



I did not stop to swear and curse 

 with him on the event, but started 

 across the track, and, approaching 

 one whom I took to be a striker, said : 



"Are you going to pull out to- 

 day ?" 



" Guess not, sir." 



" Well," said I, this train of mine 

 hasn't struck yet, and I think I'll pull 

 out ;" and with this I started toward 

 Starkville, thanking good fortune that 

 "Strikes" don't stop all the wheels of 

 progress, for my wheel at that very 

 moment was spinning along at a rapid 

 rate. I continued until I had gone 

 about 30 miles. I went a little out of 

 my way on account of imperfect direc- 

 tions as to the. road. 



It being Saturday, and as I could 

 not reach Starkville, the home of Mr. 

 Elwood, without riding on Sunday, I 

 concluded to ride to the next station 

 on the Central railroad, if I could get 

 aboard the cars. I found that there 

 was a chance of getting on a train, and 

 fortunately was able to get to Fort 

 Plain toward evening. Starkville, I 

 was told, was about nine miles from 

 Fort Plain. As I saw the hills, some 

 of them fully a thousand feet high, my 

 heart sank within me. 



" It is late," I said to myself, "and 

 to go over an unknown and lonely 

 road among those fearful hills is not 

 inviting." 



I buckled up my courage and start- 

 ed ; and, to my surprise, in about an 

 hour's time I was before the door of 

 Mr. Elwood, the man who manages 

 successfully over 1,300 colonies. The 

 hills were not as bad as they looked, 

 and the road was not as lonely as it 

 seemed. 



AT MR. p. H. ELWOOD'S HOME. 



I met with a hearty welcome from 

 our big bee-keeper — large in several 

 senses of the word. It was a little 

 embarrassing on my part to come upon 

 a family I had never seen, just at sup- 

 per time, Saturday night ; but when I 

 went to the hotel at Starkville, I was 

 informed that Mr. Elwood had left 

 word that I should come straight to 

 his home, early or late ; and accord- 

 ingly I turned the wheel about, and 

 was soon shooting down (or, rather, 

 up) the road leading to the Elwoods. 

 Their home is situated at the base of a 

 range of hills (I wanted to call them 

 mountains) of anywhere from 500 to 

 1,000 feet above the valleys. To an 

 Ohio boy this was all new, and I feast- 

 ed my eyes on the scenery to my 

 heart's content. 



The next day was Sunday. I threw 

 off my bicycle suit, and put on ordi- 

 naiy civilian's clothing. As my lug- 

 gage on the wheel had to be com- 

 pressed into a tight bundle, my cloth- 

 ing, I fancy, looked as if it had been 



througli a — well a criniping-machine, 

 or something of that sort. I was glad 

 to go to chuicli with the family ; and it 

 didn't matter at all, even if their de- 

 nomination was different from mine. 

 We all love the Lord, and we differ 

 only in unimportant details as to be- 

 liefs. I enjoyed the services, and en- 

 joyed, also, being in a God-fearing 

 family for the Sabbath. 



The scenery about Starkville, to an 

 Ohio boy, is grand. While the coun- 

 try is not really mountainous it is very, 

 very hilly. From many of the higher 

 summits the whole Mohawk Valley 

 spreads out before yon, and off in the 

 distance the dim outline of the Green 

 Mountains can be seen. 



Mr. Elwood kindly offered to take 

 me around the country ; and accord- 

 ingly, the following Monday morning, 

 one of the bee-wagons was hitched up, 

 and we took a ride through the sur- 

 rounding country, to take in some of 

 the sights, and of course, in the course 

 of the day, visited bee-yards. After 

 driving to the top of one of those high 

 hills, aud taking a general survey of 

 the Mohawk Valley and adjacent coun- 

 try (a magnificent, view, by the way), 

 we visited a beautiful glen where there 

 were some vei-y curious rock forma- 

 tions — caves, waterfalls, and running 

 springs. My Kodak was in readiness, 

 and I took a number of shots {i. e., 

 views). Vegetable matter that re- 

 mains for a few years in the water of 

 this glen petrifies. Among the speci- 

 mens we selected were almost perfect 

 petrified beach leaves, fragments of 

 moss, etc. 



It was here first that I noticed what 

 seemed to be true of all this section of 

 country ; namely, that the basswoods 

 seemed to grow much more thriftily 

 than in Ohio. The leaves were enor- 

 mously large. One we measured was 

 14 inches long, nor did this seem to be 

 exceptional. At Mr. Doolittle's I no- 

 ticed that the basswoods were of larger 

 and better growth than with us, while 

 on the sidehills of Starkville they were 

 even more so. 



We started on our journey again, 

 and were discussing as to whether the 

 large-leafed basswoods were any bet- 

 ter for honey than the small-leafed 

 trees,when we drove up to the apiary of 

 J. R. Tuniclift",.of Vanhornsville. Mr. 

 T. owns some 400 colonies in three or 

 four out-yards. He formerly used the 

 ordin,ary hanging frame ; used it faith- 

 fully for 50 years. Finally, in 1878, 

 he adopted the closed-end frame, which 

 he is still using. This frame, instead 

 of standing upon a flat tin on the bot- 

 tom of the hive, hangs in an ordinary 

 wooden rabbet by means of a project- 

 ing headless wire-nail jutting out from 

 the top-bar. In other words, it is a 

 hanging frame with closed-end bars. 



