1S94 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



55.- 



C)X THE WHEEL; A VISIT TO T. 15. TEKHY S. 



All through the month of May I was impa- 

 tient to get over into Summit Co.; but business, 

 muddy roads, and one thing after another, pre- 

 vented until Friday, June S, when I got things 

 fixed around so I thought I could go; but so 

 many things needed attention that it was after 

 dinner before I could get off; then something 

 more had to be seen to until I was startled to 

 find that it lacked on]y 20 minutes of .i. a,nd I 

 must either give it up or make 30 miles before 

 dark: and a goodly part of the 30 miles was up 

 and down the tremendous hills bordering on 

 the Cuyahoga River. I laughingly told my 

 youngest sister that I would stand in T. B. 

 Terry's yard before the sun went down, and off 

 I started. The new light wheel made point 

 after point, much quicker than the heavier one 

 of the year before; and I want to say that, if 

 any of you ever have a chance to take a spin in 

 the vicinity of the town of Ghent, Summit Co., 

 you will agree with me that it is one of the 

 most beautiful places to be found anywhere. 

 The road descends with many curves toward 

 the river, and soft-water springs burst forth 

 from the hills until they form a stream large 

 enough to run water-mills, and so we have 

 milldam after milldam along the roadside, with 

 the beautiful pure water making many a 

 ■parkling waterfall. I asked a gentleman by 

 the roadside if it would make much trouble to 

 gel me a drink of water. 



"Oh, no!" said he. " Come in and sit down 

 and I will bring you some that is fresh." 



As he opened the back door I caught a glimpse 

 of potato- vines under the apple-trees. Said I: 



■' Why. my good friend, how did you manage 

 to have such beautiful large potatoes right out 

 in the open ground, without protection ? " 



■'Oh'." said he, "I have got some even finer 

 than these. Come this way. please." 



As we turned a corner of the house he led me 

 right through — what do you suppose? Why, 

 just the prettiest and " busiest " little apiary, 

 all of chaff bee-hives, you ever saw: and ju«t 

 beyond them were the Early Ohio potatoes in 

 such full bloom that it looked like a flower- 

 garden. I stopped among the bee -hives. 

 Why," said I. "do you keep bees too?" 



"Keep bees too f " said he. interrogatively. 

 "Why, this is not A. I. Root, is it?" 



" Yes. that is just who it is: and I have been 

 thinking all the while that I ought to know 

 you." 



" Why. to be sure, you should know me, Mr. 

 Root. I suppose we have both grown gray 

 somewhat since we used to know each other 

 quite well. My name is Porter— Dr. Porter." 



By the way. it has more than once occurred 

 to tne that all sorts of garden-stuff are not only 

 more forward in a sandy and gi'avelly soil, but 

 that potatoes and garden vegetable-^ generally 

 have a brighter and more animated look where 

 soft-water springs abound, than in the hard 

 •clay soils such as we have around Medina. 



How beautifully ray wheel ran down one 

 little decline and then up and ovt^r another 

 little hill, curving this way and that to get 

 around the hills, taking the rider close up to 

 the door-step of a little vine-clad cottage, then 

 past a schoolhouse. now close to a mill, surpris- 

 ing the occupants of one quiet home after an- 

 other by the speed and noiseless tread of the 

 rubber tire. When I reached Hammond's Cor- 

 ners 1 felt a good deal like having supper. 



There was no hotel there, but I found friends 

 in a twinkling. 



Down we went those great long twisty hilly 

 roads. Hying under the covered bridge, over the 

 raiial and along the edge of the river, until I 

 I'uund the proper road, winding along another 

 mountain stream, up toward Terry's home. I 

 was so animated with the idea of getting there 

 before sunset that I did not vi'nture to even 

 look around. I found friend Terry in that 

 same beautiful dooryard — handsomer, yes. ever 

 so much handsomer, than it ever looked before, 

 and I asked him a little anxiously which way I 

 should look to catch a glimpse of the sun be- 

 fore it vanished. Yes, there it was through 

 the trees, a glowing, golden orb; and I had 

 made my 30 miles in just about an even four 

 hours, notwithstanding the hills and the 

 amount of visiting I did while getting my sup- 

 per. I felt quite anxious to know whether 

 Terry's wheat would really show that it was a 

 paying operation to work the soil over so many 

 times before it was sown, last fall. And I was 

 glad to notice the finest piece of wheat, perhaps, 

 1 ever looked upon. His locality, however, is a 

 very frosty one, and they had be'm having 

 frosts night after night, even though it was in 

 the month of June, and he feared his wheat 

 had suffered somewhat in consequence. It had 

 also fallen down so as to injure it somewhat. 

 Notice the difference in just 30 miles. We had 

 been picking strawberries for a week or ten 

 days, and yet none of his were ripe. Heavy 

 mulching, and a location north of an evergreen 

 hedge, had likely something to do with it. 



Friend Terry and his son Robert are enlarg- 

 ing their farming operations somewhat this 

 year. Robert is getting to be somewhere near 

 31 years old. and hi^ father is naturally quite 

 anxious he should choose for his associates 

 those who neither drink, smoke, nor swear. 

 Well, somebody told me, or else I dreamed it, 

 that the boy has concluded he would be on the 

 safe side by choosing a nice-looking girl for an 

 associate — at least, when he goes out riding in 

 that nice new buggy. You see, a girl would be 

 quite sure to be free from any of these bad 

 habits, and I am not a bit surprised if the boy 

 finds her quite as agreeable, as a companion, as 

 any of the young men. And now please do not 

 understand me as casting reflections on the 

 young men in the vicinity of Hudson, O. 



Well, the boy has a farm adjoining his 

 father's — or at least they two, father and son, 

 are working at it together. The old fences 

 have been removed, and new ones — that is, 

 where any fence was needed — have taken their 

 place, old trees, big stones and stumps, and 

 all useless rubbish, have been cleared away, 

 and the potatoes are already coming up on this 

 neglected waste. Now, wouldn't it be funny if 

 those potatO'^s this very first year should con- 

 clude to behave themselves exactly as they do 

 over on the father's farm, and bear great crops 

 from the word go? I went through the fruit- 

 garden where the raspberries, blackberries, and 

 currants have not seen a hoe nor cultivator 

 for the past six years. Mulching with straw 

 does it all. Friend Terrv thinks it would not 

 require over two tons of straw per acre where 

 this amount is put on every year. And this is 

 all there is to it. The berry-patch always looks 

 neat and tidy, always bears a prodigious crop, 

 no matter how dry it is. and all the owner has 

 to do is to pick the hcrrie'*, each in its season. 



Next I whirled into the beautiful town of 

 Kent, Portage Co.. O. A niece of mine has 

 recentlv got married. Somebody said she was 

 a little'bit inclined to be homesick since living 

 in Kent, and I must call on her. I found her 

 husband in one of the drygoods stores. He 

 marched me into the best room of one of the 



