1884 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



840 



im fruit and climate, has been the best she has ex- 

 perienced in Japan. 



The Japanese eat tiieir I'ruit when it is quite 

 jrreen (some of it they pickle, usually plums or 

 apricots); so when we ask for j-ipc fruit they bring 

 us fruit that has decayed on the tree, and couse- 

 (lueutly is all wormy. But this summer we have 

 delicious fruit. One day, while mamma was eating 

 a Japanese pear she exclaimed, "This i-caily tastes 

 something- like a home pear." 



I thought pei-haps you would like to read a Jap- 

 anese story, so I inclose one that I have translated 

 into English. We all think it is very good. It is the 

 kind the (yoo(i class of Japanese tell their children; 

 the lower class principally tell ghost and other 

 frightfvil stories. A Japanese lady tells baby Fred- 

 eric the story I send you. One time I listened, and 

 got so interested in it that I undertook to translate 

 it; another Japanese ladj- heard about it, and gave 

 me several of these story-books, all of which T intend 

 to translate some time or other. Here is the story. 



THK STOHV OF A SPAUUOW. 



Long ago there lived an old man and liis wife. 

 This old man had a sparrow which he was very fond 

 of. One day the old man went out to gather wood, 

 leaving the sparrow in the care of the old woman. 

 Instead of feeding it she left it alone in the same 

 room where she had i)ut her starch. When she 

 came back for the starch (for she had been wash- 

 ing) she could not find it. Knowing the bird had 

 eaten it she grew very angry, and in her rage cut 

 off his tongue and let him fly away. Of course, 

 when the old man came l)ack he was very much 

 surprised to see the empty cage. "Wliy, where 

 is the bird?" inquired ho. 



" He ate my starch, so I cut off his tongue, and 

 let him fly off," replied the old woman. 



"Oh! that is very pitiful," said the old man. "I 

 must go and find him." So saying he started out to 

 find his pet sparrow. As he went thi'ough the wood 

 he said,- 



" Tongue-cut sparrow. 

 Where is your home? 

 Chu, chu, chu." 



Then he looked around; and seeing the si>arrow 

 he said, "Good-morning!" 



" Why, good-morning," returned the bird. " I am 

 \ery glad to see you ; won't you come in? " 



The old man thanked him; and after apologizing 

 for his wife's ill conduct, went in. The sparrow 

 brought him tea and cakes, an^l called a dancer to 

 (lance for him. After awhile the old man said, "It 

 is getting late, I must return to my home." 



"If you must go," replied the bird, "I will give 

 you a trunk. Would you like a light or heavy 

 trunk?" 



The old man, who was very unselfish, and not 

 wishing to appear greedy, said, "A light one, for I 

 am old, and can not carry heavy things." So he re- 

 ceived a small light trunk; and after thanking the 

 l)ird profuselj', the old man departed. 



When he arrived home and opened his trunk he 

 found a great many nice things in it; and the more 

 he took out, the more were there. Then his wife 

 saw them, and said, " I'm going to get one too." So 

 she went to the wood, and called,— 

 "Tongue-cut sparrow. 

 Where is your home? 

 Chu, chu, chu." 



Then she hunted a little, and at k^ist saw the spar- 

 row. " Good-day," called the bird. 



"Good-day," returned the old woman. " I have 



come to apologize for my behavior this morning." 

 She was asked to come in; and when she did so the 

 sparrow gave her some food ; but it was all bitter, 

 so she could not enjoy it. 



" I wonder when he is going to give me a trunk," 

 thought the old woman to herself; and then she 

 said to the sparow, " I must go now, so good-by." 



"Ohl" said the sparrow, "good-by; but I will 

 give you a trunk. Would you like a heavy or light 

 one?" 



Now, the old woman was ciiy selfish; and think- 

 ing there would be more in a heavy one she said, 

 " I am very strong yet, so I will have a heavy one." 



So she got a heavy one. All the way home the old 

 woman was thinking how heavy her bundle was. 

 As soon as she reached home she said to herself, 

 "My! I guess I will open it right away. There will 

 be lots of things in it." 



So she opened it; but, behold! nothing but evil 

 spirits proceeded from it, and the old woman was so 

 frightened she i-an to the old man and said, " Look ! 

 all this comes from evil in my heart. I will be a 

 good woman, so please forgive me." "All right," 

 said the old man, and ever after that she was good. 



Tokio, Japan, Aug. 31, 18«f . Ada Kreckeh. 



There is one thing 1 like about your story, 

 Ada, and that is, there is a good inoral about 

 it. Of course, birds can't talk, especially 

 when their tongues are cut ott', antl so we 

 presume it is only a table ; but 1 am very 

 glad to hear that the Japanese faules liave 

 an element in them indicating the longing 

 that is in every human heart for that Christ- 

 like spirit — that hungering and thirsting for 

 righteousness or good things. 



JUST BEFORE NEW YEAR'S. 



AUNT VIC'S CHAT ON llESOLUTIO NS. 



fHE year has nearly rolled around, and we 

 have not been unfrequently reminded, as 

 the autumnal leaves come Huttering softly 

 to the earth, and as the bed-chilling nights 

 creep in upon us, of the days that have fiown 

 into eternity; and at the same time, future encouu- 

 terments rise up before us, that something must be 

 done to keep the "wolf from the door." It is now 

 almost time to renew our subscription for Glean- 

 ings, and to store away the bees for winter, bef'oif 

 the annual visit of that extiuisite but quite familiar 

 poem, "The Beautiful Snow." The summer has 

 passed, with all its boating revelries, its fishing and 

 bee-chasing excursions, its many warm days of toil 

 in the field by the industrious farmer, who i)uts 

 forth his every energy to secure the necessary arti- 

 cles of life for the coming winter. The summer has 

 fiown like the humming-bird oft' the sweet-scented 

 rosebuds, and the chilly fall breezes have stolen 

 through the terraces, and spread their frosty wings 

 over the once flower-strewn fields and meadows, 

 where the bleating lamb with Hecce of white once 

 skipped and basked in the noonday sun. 



Now we can, through imagination, unfurl to our 

 future gaze the sharp, nipping frosty mornings of 

 mid-winter, when the snowflakes will be seen cut- 

 ting the air, and the raging, roaring blows of old 

 Boreas will be felt as he hurls his furious ravings 

 headlong down the arctic regions; and it has now 

 also nearly come to the time. New Year's, when men 

 should lay aside the old muddy smoke-begrimed 



