248 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Apr. 



duced a larger average that 15 in an out-apiary 3' 2 

 miles distant. 



Now, if the light production comes from bad 

 weather and a limited secretion in our flora, extend- 

 ing throughout the whole season, the effect is very 

 different from a condition that prevents the yield 

 of nectar only in certain flowers, while that in 

 others remains normal or large. Take linden and 

 white clover. There are localities where both are 

 very valuable sources of supply. If one utterly 

 fails and the other is very abundant, the average 

 product will be largely reduced; yet it would have 

 no bearing upon the question of stocking, if the 

 stocks have full employment during the clover sea- 

 son. With us the season of 18S7 would have been 

 as bad a failure as elsewhere but for the unusually 

 abundant bloom of aster. Orchard and foi-est 

 bloom and white clover and blue tliistle were abun- 

 dant here, yet none of these gave us any surplus, 

 except blue thistle, which, by the way, gives very 

 nice honey. 



Now, if one important source of supply is so 

 abundant, say for but ten days, as to fully employ 

 100 colonies in one locality, that locality, it it has 

 other sources of supply in ordinary seasons, can 

 not be said to be overstocked, even though all 

 other flowers were cut off, though the average pro- 

 duct may not be high after providing for winter. 



Here in Virginia, where we all winter on summer 

 stands, your question No. 38 is a matter of interest. 

 Bees fly out more or less all winter, and are i-arely 

 confined 30 days. The consumption of honey is 

 much greater than in the North, not only because 

 of the activity, but because of earlier brood-rear- 

 ing. Having kept bees in New York, the fact has 

 been long apparent to me. J. W. Porter. 



Charlottesville, Va., March 8, 1888. 



SERMON TO HUSBANDS. 



HUSBANDS, BE GOOD TO YOUR WIVES WHILE YOU 

 AND THEY ARE ALIVE. 



fWENTY-FOUR years ago I boarded with a 

 young married coup e. They were nice- 

 mannered, gentle-spoken young people, in 

 poor circumstances. They had at that time 

 five children, all small, so that the wife had 

 no help worth speaking of. She was an industrious 

 Christian woman, ambitious of her housekeeping, 

 and proud of her children. All through the haying 

 season, with all her household work and other cares, 

 she had to go out every time a load of hay came to 

 the barn, and drive the horse that was hitched to 

 the rope that moved the hay-fork. This she did 

 cheerfully; but there came a day when she, almost 

 blind with sick headache, could not drive the horse 

 steadily, as was her wont, and the fierce yells that 

 came to her from the depths of the hay-mow made 

 her still more nervous, until at last the horse got 

 frightened and kicked himself loose and ran away. 

 The young wife crept back to the hot kitchen, and 

 began cooking supper for the men. That evening, 

 as we went to hunt the cows (it was her regular 

 work to hunt the cows out in the woods every 

 evening, and to milk them after they were driven 

 home) she told me of the trials of her married life. 

 I did not believe her then; 1 did not believe her for 

 years; l)ut I believe now all that she told me then. 

 She told me of the hundred little ways that Uer bus- 



band took to annoy her. One of these was a habit 

 he had of being prompt. He would set a time to 

 start to town, and if, as sometimes happened, she 

 could not get all the little ones ready in time, he 

 did—what do you think? helped her dress them, 

 and told her not to worry, as there was all of life 

 before them? Well, not exactly that; but he drove 

 away and left her— left her when fifteen minutes' 

 help, ot- a half-hour's patient waiting would have 

 made every thing smooth and pleasant; left her, 

 the wife that he had promised to love and protect 

 as long as they both should live; left her with tears 

 in her eyes and a rage in her heart that was fearful 

 to behold. This was only one of a hundred of his 

 little ways; but, worse than all was his whipping 

 her with a stick. I could believe all the rest that 

 she told me; but this seemed too much. He was a 

 quiet-spoken, intelligent man; he went around and 

 made speeches at farmers' clubs and political meet- 

 ings, and was so nice and polite to every one. The 

 children grew up, the daughters married, the hus- 

 band died; and the widow said to mo in the midst of 

 her grie'', " I can love him now; I loved him before 

 I married him; but from our wedding-day he has 

 been a tyrant to me. I have been no dearer to him 

 than his horses or his lands— something that helped 

 to make him money, and save it for him. I have 

 been his slave, but now I am free; and with his 

 dead body lying there, I love him as I used to love 

 him before I knew him. It seems as it the feeling 

 of aversion had all dropped away, and I see only 

 the bright-eyed lover whom I married thirty years 

 ago;" and these words were from the lips of the 

 woman whom he had chosen from among all others, 

 and whom he had promised to love and protect un- 

 til death should part them. Young husband, take 

 the hat from ott' your head and the shoes from oft" 

 your feet, for the place where you stand is holy 

 ground. Mahala B. Chaddock. 



Vermont, 111. 



Mrs. Chaddock, it is a sad and serious 

 story you have been telling us ; but I am 

 afraid you are making a mistake when you 

 put the heading " A Sermon to Husbands." 

 I am sure it ought to read, " A sermon to 

 any man or woman who goes through life 

 without the love of God in the heart." 

 There may have been mimcn as awfully 

 wicked and cruel and hard-heavted as this 

 husband of whom you speak, but I never 

 knew of any, and I hope tliere are none. 

 You say this woman was a Christian, but 

 you did not say that her liusband was, and 

 I am glad that you did not say so. If this 

 story be true, his record is a dishonor to his 

 sex ; and had he made any sort of profession 

 of Christianity it would liave been a dishon- 

 or to Christ Jesus. Now, while we censure, 

 perhaps it would be well to remember that 

 many of us, without the restraining power 

 of the Christian religion, might beat least 

 somewhat like this man. Your old friend 

 A. I. Root, before he acknowledged Christ, 

 might have done sucli a wicked thing as to 

 drive away because his poor overworked 

 wife was fifteen minutes late in getting the 

 children ready. In fact, before 1 became a 

 Christian it would have been just like me to 

 do such a thing ; and wlien vexed and impa- 

 tient, 1 might be tempted to think of doing 

 such a thing now. I say, think of such a 

 thing ; but the thought would be but brief 



