1896. 



THE AMERICAN BEE-KEEPER. 



Kil 



WHAT IS MONEY? 



Money, my boy, is silver and gold 



Or a pii'i'i^ of pictured ij:ipor, 

 And tlii^y win) i)ossi;ss it iiianifold 



May cut any kind of a caper. 



Money, my boy, is a worshiped god 



And a dearly troa-surcd idol, 

 Used often as a divining rod 



At buriul, birth and bridal. 



Money, my boy, doe.s a world of good 

 And more than worlds of evil — 



Good wIkii poured from the hand of God, 

 Bad if dealt out by the devil. 



Money, my boy, does not grow on trees. 

 Is not always had for the asking, 



Kor gathered in pocket from every breeze 

 Without much deceit and masking. 



Money, my boy, will buy place and power, 

 Husbands and wives and divorces — 



Truthful and false in selfsame hour. 

 Marshaling all kinds of forces. 



Money, my boy, it is sad to say. 

 Buys ''body, soul and breeches;" 



Is a curse to those who day by day 

 Live only to hoard up riches. 



Money, my boy, both rich and poor 

 Fall down on their knees before it. 



No matter how it may come to their door, 

 All are quick to receive and adore it. 



Money, my boy, "'What is it?" you ask, 

 As if it were something funny. 



A corrt'ct replj- is no easj' task. 

 For money is nothing but monej". 



Money, my boy, alone by itself 

 Is naught but a name for riches. 



And whether well or ill gotten is pelf, 

 That hinders and helps and bewitches. 



But money, my boy, don't pass it by 

 When skies grow bright and sunny, 



For it's ten to one that before you die 

 You'll find it handy to havo some money. 

 —Good Housekeeping. 



A MATEDIOXIAL JAE. 



It might have reniained there a long 

 time, Picket's new hat, if Mrs. Picket 

 did not repeat every tinae her eyes fell 

 upon it: 



"What in the world possessed you to 

 buy a.uother new hat when you leave it 

 there for weeks without ever opening 

 the box it came in?" 



"But, ' ' said Picket, "I have not worn 

 it because you ki ep telling me that my 

 old one locks all right. " 



"Yes, and you already have 27 hats 

 that you have quit wearing, and you 

 leave them in your closet covered with 

 dust. What in the world do von Irppn 



them tor.' wiiy cTen'T " yOu tnrow V^Lz:, 

 away?' ' 



"Throw them away! And yet you 

 know very well that you never throw 

 anything away. You would not throw 

 away a match that had been already 

 lighted. You're so fond of saying, 'It 

 might ccme in h;mdy. ' " 



" Well, " said Mrs. Picket, "it is true 

 that I never throw away things that 

 might ccme in handy, but how can old 

 hats ever come in handy? What sen.se is 

 there in piling up old hats which are of 

 no use to any one when there are so 

 many pocr creatures who walk the 

 streets barefooted?" 



"But," said Picket, "they could not 

 wear my hats on their bare feet. ' ' 



"I don't .see anything funny in that, " 

 said Mrs. Picket icily. "You know what 

 I mean. You needn't pretend that you 

 don't understand me. Why don't you 

 send for an old clothes man and sell 

 him your hats?" 



"I never think of it, " 



"I'd like to know what you do think 

 of. I don't think ycii think at all. But 

 do as you please. Buy new hats ; wear 

 them; den 't wear them. It's your own 

 affair." Mrs. Picket concluded with 

 saying, 'You make me tired," and she 

 retired from the room, slamming the 

 door ^^^th a violence which made the 

 chandelier rattle. 



"Such is married life," said the 

 stupefied PicLat, gazing after his wife. 

 "Whether I do a thing or don't do it, 

 I am certain not to please my wife. 

 Take that new hat, fcr esample! 'What 

 did you buy it for, ' said she, 'when you 

 never wear it?' and the first day that I 

 put it on to go out she will be sure to 

 say, 'What are you weai-lng your new 

 hat fcr when the ether one is all right 

 still?' " 



Some days afterward Picket said to 

 his wife, "i am go:ng out. " 



"Indeed, " said Mrs. Picket. "TiTiere 

 ai-e you going?' ' 



"I am going to see pocr Marley, who 

 is ill." 



"And do you put en your new hat to 

 see pocr Marhy?" 



" Just v/hrt I expected you to say," 

 remarked Picket. ' ' Ye.s, that is what I 

 am going to do. I am going to wear my 

 new hat. Gee?" 



"Well, why don't you throw your old 



