934 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Dec. 15. 



ing some sort of machine at his tine brood of 

 chicks. I made haste to make my best apology, 

 and to tell him we were going to take their 

 pictures, and that we would send him a maga- 

 zine describing his ostrich-farm. They have a 

 little coop to stay in nights; and as it was 

 winter time, the keeper drove them into their 

 inclosure and locked them up. I think these 

 fellows were only four months old. The next 

 brood, if I remember correctly, was nearly a 

 year old. The old trio were full grown. An 

 ostrich is worth from 6.500 to 61000. Their eggs 

 are worth 65.00 each, and are about as large as 

 the head of an infant. You remember what I 

 said about eggs in Arizona hatching while on 

 the shelf in a store. 



Well, this temperature makes it easy to hatch 

 out ostriches at just the right season of the 

 year. Even if the mother-bird does not cover 

 all the eggs, the chances are very good for a 

 good hatch. I think, however, that four or five 

 chicks are as many as they get at a hatching. 



There were two, and perhaps three, mature 

 feijiales. I w^anted a Kodak view of the old 

 bii-d himself; and I wanted, above all other 

 things, to get him while he was on the " war- 

 path." I suggested to the proprietor that I 

 could go around on the opposite side of the lot, 

 crawl through the fence, and have my Kodak 

 all ready, so that, when he discovered I was 

 right in the inclosure. I could take his picture 

 when he got the proper distance from me. and 

 crawl through the fence before he would have 

 time to tear me to pieces and chew me up. The 

 keeper thought Jt was a rather risky experi- 

 ment, but yon know it is right and proper that 

 we should take some risks in the pursuit of 

 science. He told me I had better look out, but 

 said that, if I was willing to take the chances, 

 all right. 1 was considerably excited at the 

 time: but I remember of thinking I would like 

 to take the picture also of my brother Jess as 

 he watched proceedings. From his childhood 

 up he has always been full of mischief, and^ he 

 has not got over it yet, even if he is toward tifty 

 years old. Ever since he was a small boy, a 

 peculiar comical expression comes into his face 

 when any mischief is going on. Mother could 

 always tell when we had been doing any thing 

 wrong, by a look at Jesse's face; and when I 

 proposed to brave the lion in his den. and then 

 get out through the fence with my apparatus 

 before he could catch me. .less just entered into 

 the spirit of the adventure with his old-time 

 boyish love of sport and mischief. He kept 

 close to me. ready, I suppose, in the event that 

 he and the keejjer would have to turn in and 

 help to deliver me from the enemy. I crawled 

 through the fence, and challenged the foe to 

 mortal combat. Oh! but you should have seen 

 him bristle up and paw the gravel, like an in- 

 furiated beast. He spread his wings, and 

 pranced up and down, taking that peculiar 

 ostrich step I have been trying to describe: and 

 then he came down on me like a rush of mighty 

 waters. It was a hard cross to lake my eyes 

 from the bird and look at my camera in order 

 to get it properly adjusted. One thing troubled 

 me— I could not see just how near he was when 

 I snapped the btittou. I >ucci'eded. however, in 

 getting every thing much to my heart's con- 

 tent; and even thougli I hadn't the hundredth 

 part of a second to spare, I said to myself, 

 '•There, old fellow, that picture will be worth 

 a hundred dollars if you succeed in getting 

 through that hole in the fence before his majes- 

 ty demolishes vou. Kodak and all." I pressed 

 the button. There was a confused rattling in- 

 side of the camera, that did not seem quite 

 right. I hoped, liowcwer. that it was the ex- 

 citement of the moment, that made me imagine 

 it; and, didn't I just get through that fence 



lively, as my Kodak rolled in one direction and 

 I in another, while I picked myself up out of 

 the alfalfal There was luy enemy rubbing his 

 breast against the top rail of the fence, and 

 fairly dancing up and down while he' bellowed 

 forth his rage. He tried to reach me with his 

 open mouth and tierce beak; but as the head of 

 a full-grown ostrich is not very much larger 

 than your double tist. the head itself is not very 

 formidable. It was those wicked clawlike heels 

 of his that he was itching to tv/ist around so as 

 to give me a stroke. 



In many respects an ostrich resembles a fierce 

 domestic fowl. His preamble before doing any 

 thing is something like the strutting of a tur- 

 key gobbler; but he kicks with an aim that is 

 usually unerring when no obstacles are in 

 the way. I do not know whether they have 

 ever killed human beings or not; but I have 

 been told they would in short meter if a man 

 were unarmed. If he has a club in his hand, a 

 good muscular stroke across the long slender 

 neck disables the ostrich; but at the same time 

 it knocks a thousand dollars or more out of the 

 pocket of the owner; so the keeper has two 

 reasons to avoid '• picking a quarrel " with his 

 birds. I do not know whether the mother- 

 ostrich scratches for her chicks, and leads them 

 about like a mother-hen, or not; but I would 

 give quite a little sum of money for the privi- 

 lege of spending a day or two where I could see 

 the chicks when newly hatched, to learn more 

 of the strange instinct that governs these won- 

 derful creatures. 



Do you ask where the pictures are? Well, 

 my dear friend, when we got to New Orleans I 

 had my Kodak overhauled, and was told that, 

 when i snapped my machine on that big os- 

 trich. I had got to the end of the roll of films— 

 that is, I had taken my sixty pictures. When I 

 snapped it that last time the film pulled off, 

 and every one of the views taken on the ostrich- 

 farm was spoiled. You see, I lost my book of 

 instructions that goes with the instrument, and 

 therefore I did not keep account of how many 

 pictures I had taken, and hence this mishap. I 

 I am very sorry indeed that I can not present 

 you the pictures I so fondly anticipated having 

 accompany this description. But if Providence 

 permits, and I continue to feel as well as I do 

 now, I think thi; readers of Gleanings may 

 feel sure that thev will get them some time. 



High-pressure Gardening. 



SOMETHING ABOUT WAGONS. 



Every market-gardener, and I should say 

 every farmer, who expects to do very much 

 business, should have at least two wagons. 

 During the busy time a successful man can 

 not alford to lose the use of his team, and pos- 

 sibly that of a hired man, because the wagon 

 must be reijaired. We have a blacksmith of 

 our own, right here on the premises; but not- 

 withstanding that, we can not well get along 

 without an extra wagon. A good many times 

 our regular wagon contains a heavy load, when 

 a sudden demand from some other direction 

 makes it necessary to unload. I bought a very 

 stout low-down wagon, or truck, that was a 

 great deal out of repair by being left out in the 

 wet. for only 6S.00. Ky paying out nearly as 

 much more on it. we have a wagon that does 

 nicely for emergencies: and. when something 

 gives out on our regular wagon, the team is 

 hitched on to tliis one. and the work goes on 

 with scarcely a moment's delay. This gives 



