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GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Mar. 1, 



Wherefore do ye spend money for that which is 

 not bread, and your labor for that which satisfletli 

 not?— ISA. 55:3. 



The train was behind time. Just ahead of 

 me we were to change ears, and there was only 

 five minutes' time to make the connection. I 

 asked the conductor if he could not telegraph 

 ahead to have them hold the train a little, and 

 he said he had done so. Just as we were slow- 

 ing up at the depot, however, the train on the 

 other road was just getting under motion. Had 

 I jumped off from our own train before it was 

 stopped, and climbed on while the other was 

 under way, I think I could have made it; but 

 I do not like that way of doing business; and I 

 could hardly think that, after the train had 

 waited so long, they would start out just as we 

 came up. So it was, however. Somebody said 

 the two roads were at odds and ends, and that 

 they did things like this just to spite each 

 other. Dear me! is it true that great railroad 

 companies do such things purposely, without 

 any regard to the trouble, expense, and disap- 

 pointment they make the traveling public? I 

 hope not; and I tried to think they had some 

 other reason that I did not know of for refusing 

 to wait just one minute more. There was 

 quite a number of passengers besides myself 

 who expected to take that train; and sonie of 

 them did not hesitate to use bad language in 

 expressing their disappointment. I thought I 

 would try to set a better example; but when 

 the landlord told us there would not be another 

 train for four hours, and the four hours must 

 come out of the middle of a bright sunshiny 

 day, I confess I forgot myself so far as to say. 

 "Do yon mean to say we have nothing to do 

 but to wait here four hours more? " Somebody 

 suggested a livery rig. as we wished to go only 

 17 miles; but tlie landlord said that, in the 

 condition the roads then were, the livery would 

 get there bul little if any before the train we 

 were waiting for. 



" I will tell you." said one of the strangers. 

 "Have the landlord bring us a table, and you 

 sit down here and play pedro with us, and the 

 four hours will pass away so quickly you will 

 hardly know when it is ti-ain time.'' 



Now, may be some of you may think me dull 

 if I tell you I did not know exactly what sort of 

 game "pedro" was. I felt pretty sure, how- 

 ever, that it was a game of cards, and so, of 

 course, refused. In fact, I should have refused 

 any sort of game under the circumstances, 

 unless it had been riding a wheel, skating, or 

 some similar exercise in the open air, that 

 would bring some substantial equivalent for 

 the time and strength expended. The landlord 

 promised a table, and told them he would play 

 with them when he could spare the time; and 

 as I looked into the men's faces, and listened 

 to their talk, I began wondering how it was 

 possible that smart, able, intelligent men could 

 sit down inside of a close hot room, when the 

 sunshine and hills, and the river and canal, and 

 all such attractions, were to be seen outdoors. 

 Another thing, my thousrhts ran something in 

 the line of our text. How is it possible that 

 men should deliberately labor for that which 

 satisfieth not? Some of you may say that, 

 even if it did not satisfy me, it might have sat- 

 isfied them. I do not believe it. I do not be- 

 lieve the satisfaction they get from pedro can 

 be compared with— well, I will say with the 

 satisfaction I felt pretty sure I should find 



during the following four hours. In regard tc 

 spending money, I do not know whether they 

 spend any on pedro or not. I fear they dc 

 sometimes, however. They spend strength and 

 a part of their lives, the best part, right in the 

 middle of the day. and right after dinner. 



We had an excellent dinner, and I took pleas- n 

 ure in telling the despondent-looking waiter 1 

 that I thought so. It lightened up her face « 

 with a smile that reminded me of the sunshine :t 

 outdoors; and when I told the landlord that I )i 

 felt grateful to him for giving me such a nicefi 

 dinner, and so promptly that I did not waste an 

 hour, nor was obliged to lose even five minutes, 

 he smiled also, and said it did him lots of good|« 

 to know that his patrons appreciated his 

 efforts. Why should I be in a hurry to get to 

 work, stranger as I was. in a strange place? 

 How did I know, in fact, that I should Und \ 

 work or play either? Well, I knew from past 

 experience. By the way. my friends, when you 

 are obliged to wait for a train under similar^ 

 circumstances, do not, I beg of you. vield to 

 the temptation to say there is nothing to do, 

 and sit down idly. If you can not do any bet- 

 ter, you can read something. Yes, in this land 

 of ours you can find something to read, and you 

 can find something good in what you read, no 

 matter where circumstances let you drop. 



I did not expect to stop at Uhrichsville at all, 

 so I did not look, before starting, for old friends 

 among the bee-keepers at this postoffice; but I 

 think I have never been dropped in a place 

 where I did not find somebody who felt glad to 

 have me call. I asked of several people about 

 bee-keepers, but they said they did not know of 

 any around there. Finally I began to inquire 

 where honey was sold. After stopping at the 

 third grocery the keeper told me there was a 

 man who kept a great many bees, and had kept 

 them for years, live or six miles off over the 

 hills. His name was Wardwell. The roads 

 were rather bad, and there was not any other 

 way to get there and back without going on 

 foot— that is. no easier way; if it should happen 

 to be six miles or a little more it would take a 

 great part of the four hours to get there and 

 back. But I remembered my friend Wardwell 

 as one of our old veterans in bee culture. As I 

 read only a limited part of the mails of late, I 

 had somehow lost track of him. As I got off 

 in the direction of his home, people knew more 

 about him, and I was agreeably surprised to 

 find it only three miles instead of twice as 

 many. And, oh such glorious hills! It was 

 California back again on a small scale: and 

 between these hills were springs and babbling 

 brooks. My heart felt light, and I was happy, 

 long before I made the three miles. A little 

 this side of friend Wardwell's home some men 

 were mining coal. These hills about Uhrichs- 

 ville are full of coal. Now. how do von suppose 

 they got the coal out of the mine? To save 

 expense, the opening was not high enough to 

 enable a man to stand upright. He had to 

 walk stooped over; but to facilitate getting out 

 the coal, a track was laid, and a little car ran 

 on it that carried the load. A man might push 

 it, but they did better than that. They had a 

 good stout calf educated to pull the car. I 

 watched him curiously as he came out of the 

 ground right below the road where I was stand- 

 ing. He took it as a matter of course, marched 

 up to the dumping-oflp place, and of his own 

 accord turned off into a sort of side stall out of 

 the way while the man dumped the coal. I 

 afterward learned that the calf was getting to 

 be so tall that his back scraped on the ceiling, 

 so they were either oblised to educate another 

 calf or raise the roof. The former would prob- 

 ably be the cheaper wav. And just beyond I 

 found the home of F. J. Wardwell, one of the 



