552 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



JuiA' 15. 



where near ripe. This tian-action indicates 

 bunglinji work. Tiii^ grocers made the tirst 

 bungle in r('fll^ing to buy the gooseberries of 

 ;his young man and woman. Then she bungled 

 by letting me know tliat she was afraid that 

 nobody wanted them at any price. Then I 

 bungled still worse by letting the report from 

 the grocers influence my better judgment. As 

 our bushes were also overloaded, I sold three 

 lots at 5 cents a quart, and then found that the 

 real value of the ijroduct— that is. letting sup- 

 ply and demand regulate the price— was about 

 8 cents a quart, or GO cents a peck; and they 

 are going at this price fully as fast as I want 

 to see them go. Why. if any of us had looked 

 at the daily quotations in the papers, in the 

 city of Cleveland, we should have found green 

 gooseberries worth $2.IM) at wholesale. Now, 

 the price we get. $2.40 per bushel, is a very 

 moderate profit indeed for such a class of goods. 

 The same thing is to be seen daily in almost all 

 sorts of garden produce. For instance, we are 

 getting a cent an ounce for early cucumbers 

 and crookneck squash this tirst day of July. 

 But then; is a little moral in regard to this. 

 The man who drives the w agon told me that it 

 did not please well to tell customers that cu- 

 cumbers, squashes, and wax bi'ans were (t cent 

 an ounce. A better way is to put them up in, 

 say, KVcent packages — 10 ounces, of course, 

 making a package. If a customer is shown 

 .some nice squashes or cucumbers, and told that 

 the lot is worth 10 cents, he will buy right 

 along. But experii nee has shown that it is not 

 well to talk ounces or pounds to him. Weigh- 

 ing seems to be the only fair way of treating all 

 alike; but the weighing is a matter that the 

 seller tisually keeps to himself. Of course, every 

 little while somebody thinks we give only a 

 very small lot for a dime; but the seller can say 

 to him truthfully. ■" My friend, at this season of 

 the year this sort of stuff must be that which 

 has been started under glass: and the very late 

 and frequent frosts of last spring necessitated 

 an unusual amount of handling of sashes. We 

 succeeded in this svay in getting these nice 

 goods when no one else has any, as you see. Is 

 it any thine more than fair that we should 

 have something for our labor? " Explanations 

 like these make a transaction pleasant that 

 otherwise would only awaken hard feelings, 

 and may be complaining remarks. With the 

 aid of such a garden as I have been trying to 

 describe, we are independent of the weather. 

 W^e produce crops when noliody else has any. 

 We have no opposition — at least, not in our 

 town; and stuff sent in from the cities can not 

 compare with ours, as I have explained to yoti; 

 therefore it is our right and privilege to have 

 good pay for nice goods. We first started wax 

 beans, raised under glass, at 10 cents a quart. 

 After the demand had been greater than the 

 supply for almost a week. I suggested that we 

 could get 15 cents a quart just as well, and the 

 supply is still less (July 12) than the demand. 



Notes of Travel 



FROM A. I. ROOT. 

 THE INDIAN SCHOOL. 



All along our trip the native Indians were an 

 object of most intense interest, both to my wife 

 and to myself: and our frequent inquiries in re- 

 gard to what had been don<' toward educating, 

 civilizing, and Christianizing these dusky broth- 

 ers and sisters often brought out th(^ remark. 

 "Why. you should visit the Indian scliool." An 

 opportunity. howeviM*. had not presented itself 

 until we were along as far as the San Jacinto 



Valley; and then Mrs. Root insisted that we 

 must visit the schools, even if we did not visit 

 any thing else. We frequently saw the Indians 

 on the streets as they cam(> to town. We were 

 told that many of them could read and write 

 fairly. Quite a few owned property, and did 

 more or less in the way of farming. Finally a 

 message came one morning, saying that we 

 were invited to call on some bee-friends wlio 

 lived quite near the Indian reservation; and on 

 this reservation was the Indian village of Sabo- 

 ba, the very same that is made prominent in the 

 story of "Ramona." Our new young friend 

 Moriis had a span of colts and a buggy waiting 

 to take us to his father's home. Young Morris 

 is very fond of horses, and 1 heard it intimated 

 that he loves /a.si horses a little better than any 

 other kind. If that is true, I hope he will use 

 the fast horses as one of (rod's gifts, and by no 

 means get to be what is sometimes called a 

 "fast" boy. Young Morris gave us a great 

 amount of information during our visit. He 

 knew pretty much all about the country, and a 

 great deal about the Indians. As we passed 

 beautiful fruit farms and fruit-gardens, some 

 of them had sustained in the recent fntst but 

 little if any damage. At other points, not half 

 a mile away, the damage was considerable, and 

 it was a question whether the lemons and or- 

 anges would all recover. '• T/fC/'c is an orchard 

 that was pretty badly iKtndijzed" said friend 

 Morris: and it soon "became apparent that "par- 

 alyzed'' was one of his favorite words. Some of 

 the Indians had a fashion of borrowing farm- 

 ing-implements, and, like some of their white 

 biethren. they did not always remember to 

 bring them back. Some of Mr. Morris" tools 

 were now and then missing in the same way; 

 and as we drove into Saboba he began looking 

 about to see if he could not catch a glimpse of 

 some of their lost tools. " If I find the chap 

 that took them, he will just get paralyzed, 

 sure," was announced as the cheerful prospect 

 awaiting the delinquents. The colts that he 

 drove did not always understand exactly the 

 program, and, perhaps, were a little inquisitive, 

 as colts often are, as to where we were going, 

 and what was going to be done, when friend 

 Morris straightened them up with a gentle lap' 

 of the lasli as an admonition to attend to their 

 business. I suggested that he should remember 

 that they were only cotts, and make allowances. 

 He said that w-as all very well, but added,"! 

 want them to understand that, when I am driv- 

 ing, they are to attend to business, and to re- 

 member that, if they do not, they will get paral- 

 yzed right on the spot, sure." When I suggest- 

 ed that perhaps the schoolma'am might not 

 care to see us intrude upon the lessons in that 

 sort of way. he remarked, with a comical ex- 

 pression, "Oh! the schoolma'am is a particular 

 friend of mine; s/ie will always be glad to see 

 me, you may be sure." He reined his horses up 

 beside the door, and tied them to one of the 

 trees you see in the picture (oh! by the way, I 

 forsot to tell you there Is a picture; and don't 

 you think it is a good one too? — many thanks to 

 our friend Murray, whose acquaintance we 

 made in our last issue). These trees are the 

 cottonwoods I am going to tell you something 

 about before we leave San Jacinto. Well, after 

 the horses wei-e fastened, and before we had 

 time to rap at the door, the schoolma'am, whom 

 you see in the easy chair, welcomed us smiling- 

 ly, especially friend Morris: and I fell to won- 

 dering whether the influence of the friendship 

 of that good woman might not lielp to hold our 

 young friend steady and level as he progresses 

 from "boyhood to manhood. The juvenile part 

 of liie school was out at recess when we came 

 up. In their plays they are very much like 

 white children, only they seem to have a little 



