50 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Jan. 1.5. 



ed place. The valley in front of the Rambler's 

 cabin is more than ten miles wide, and stretches 

 away to the west until its level floor is lost in 

 the haze of the distance. A great share of this 

 area is still in the brush, the home of the owl, 

 the coyote, and the jack-rabbit. Generally the 

 air is so clear that the distant mountains stand 

 out plainly, and seem very near; but a drive to 

 them is long drawn out and tedious. 



In the brush we find the settler taking up 

 land here and there, and in many cases the 

 house at first is of the most primitive character, 

 made of brush by which he is suri'ounded, or it 

 is a tent; or if a board house, its dimensions 

 are of the most contracted and economical plan. 

 I have noted one splendid feature about these 

 one and two room houses; and that is, the 

 amount of house-cleaning that is avoided by 

 the good housewife, if perchance there is a wife 

 — only an 8 x 13 floor to sweep and mop; only 

 two (or at most three) windows to wash; one 

 bed to make. Why! these pioneer women have 

 an easy time of it when it comes to the care of 

 a house. No surprise- parties. You may know 

 that it is an indication of an advance toward a 

 higher civilization when you hear of such par- 

 ties in this country, for it means the building of 

 more commodious houses. 



In the brush we find many queer characters 

 and methods of living. Here is a little house 

 with barely two rooms. The dog barks as we 

 approach; the cat whisks around the corner; 

 there are also a few blooded hens sitting atease 

 around the door. In the course of conversa- 

 tion with the man of the house, the poultry 

 business came up for consideration. 



"Yes," says he, "Mariar" (his wife) "was 

 bound to have some poultry, though they are 

 as much bother as we get out'n 'em. You see," 

 said he, " we have no poultry-house, and the 

 coyotes have a special liking to good fat poul- 

 try; and just now Mariar roosts her poultry in 

 the parlor." 



"Why!" said I, "your chicks will get too 

 high-toned with such treatment. Besides, I 

 should think that the floor would show the 

 wear and tear of the poultry business." 



"Ha! ha! there's where you are mistaken. 

 Mariar just knows this poultry-business to a 

 dot. She sets an empty barrel in the parlor, 

 the upper head is taken out and she roosts the 

 poultry on th(^ barrel with their heads pintin' 

 ftut — see, stranger ? If the rooster gets oneasy 

 during the night thinking about his family, 

 and indulges in an unseasonable crow, Mariar 

 is sure to give me an unseasonable dig in the 

 ribs, and say, ' Isaac, will i/ow get up and see if 

 that rooster is turned th(! wrong way on the bar- 

 rel?' A good many times, especially just before 

 a norther, which seems to make every thing on- 

 easy, I have to turn the poultry hcuids pintin' 

 out on the barrel; it's a tarnal bother; but Ma- 

 riar has got this poultry-business down fine, 

 and Mariar is a good woman, and a tidy house- 



keeper; but I'm bound to have a coyote-proof 

 poultry-house in a few days." 



At another place in the brtish I found another 

 tucked-up little cabin, occupied by a lone and 

 grave-looking bachelor. I had lost my way; 

 in fact, that day I was sort o' exploring the 

 country, and had driven right across lots to this 

 man's apology for a house. I was looking for 

 the residence and person of Mr. J. Sealer, and 

 made the proper inquiries. The sedate bache- 

 lor pointed out the location of the residence, 

 across acres of brush, and a schoolhouse loom- 

 ed up in that direction. 



.Pintin Out ,. See Siran^^rq 



\ O' r\ARiAR knovsfs,' 



" What town is that?" said I, " where we see 

 that schoolhouse ?" 



" W-a 1-1." said he with a drawl, " that-is- 

 called-by-some-Sucker-t-e-o-w-n; yes," said he, 

 " Mr. Sealer lives right around there somewhere. 

 He-is-one-on-'em." 



I left my lonely rancher with his dog and his 

 newspaper, and proceeded until I felt as though 

 I was getting ofl" the trail again, and I pulled 

 up to a more pretentious residence, and again 

 inciuired for .John Sealer. This time I found 

 that I had struck a full-fledged Dutchman. 



" You vants to know vare lilTs Chon Zealer? 

 Dos you zee ze leedle end of dot housen mit the 

 drees? Veil, dot Chon Zealer lifl'es tliere in dot 

 nex housen." 



" Let's see," said I; "I suppose this is Sucker- 

 town." 



" Vat you calls it. Zuckertown? No. mine Gra- 

 cious; whoever says dhis is Zuckertown is one 

 kosh-tired liar — Fe.sf RUilto all ze time — ze 

 pest colony in California." 



Without fui ■ luM- trouble I found Mr. Sealer's 

 residence, and found him also to be a Dutchman, 

 but of the Pennsylvania order, and he is a way- 

 back bee-keeper— back east as well as in Cali- 

 fornia. I had met Mr. S. just once before, and 

 that was at the famous rabbit-hunt where we 

 shot the jumping pests, and drank lemonade 

 together from the same tin cup. Mr. Sealer 

 and his brother have started in here under very 

 favorable circumstances— have each a fruit 



