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GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



June 15. 



We should have to be more than human if we 

 could so banish self and selfishness from our 

 hearts that all our petitions would be asked in 

 his name— ; hat is, if our requests were to be 

 consistent as coming from one who loves rieht- 

 eousuess more than self. When we can do 

 this, then God can safely answer our prayers. 

 I was working and praying over that well with 

 the thought in mind that ihe soft water would 

 be a benefit to our town and to humanity; but 

 I think that really my own selfish plans were 

 mostly at the bottom of it. When we struck 

 that vein of gas, so far as I can remember, my 

 plans for utilizing it were all selfish ones— that 

 Is, the very plans I was so busy going over, and 

 perhaps to some extent on God's holy day. and 

 in his place of v/orship. It does seem a little 

 singular that things fivored us in such unex- 

 pected ways in getting it started; but we can 

 not expect to fathom God's plans and purposes; 

 and perhaps this very Home Paper may do as 

 much good as I have given it, honestly and 

 truthfully, as any I have ever written. My 

 experience, in fact, just now calls to mind that 

 of a .levoted Christian, an old friend of mine, 

 several years ago. He was greatly given to 

 new projects — to starting out in some new kind 

 of business. Soon after the war, when rents 

 were high, and people could buy lots and build 

 houses on them, and sell out at a large profit, 

 he got a scheme into his head of buying lots 

 and making nice little homes for laboring 

 people, lie was sure he could plan something 

 attractive and convenient, and something that 

 would sell. In fact, he could think of nothing 

 else, and prayed again and again that God In 

 his providence would induce some good friend 

 to place the means at his disposal. Just about 

 this time a relative told him he had several 

 thousand dollars lying idle, and that he could 

 have it at a low rate of interest— perhaps at no 

 interest at all — I can not quite remember now. 

 This friend saw in it at once a wonderful 

 answer to prayer. He took the money, thanked 

 God for it again and again, and built his houses; 

 but, unfortunately, there was a reverse, and a 

 great decline in real estate and rents; and the 

 outcome of it all was, that, in borrowing this 

 money, he got himself into the worst trouble of 

 his life. He came near losing his faith in God 

 and in prayer. When he stated the case to me 

 I told him at once where, as I thought, he had 

 been making a mistake. Our prayers should 

 all be prefaced and closed with the words of 

 our dear Lord and Savior — " Nevertheless, not 

 my will, but thine, be done." 



I have sometimes thought that perhaps God 

 answers our prayers in order that, by so doing, 

 he may teach us wholesome lessons. Many of 

 you have doubtless heard of the woman who 

 prayed that her boy's life might be spared when 

 he was very sick. She finally asked God to 

 spare him under ajiy condition— even to take 

 her life if need be, but to spare the boy. He 

 lived, and she lived to see him die on the gal- 

 lows. This may be true or it may not be true; 

 but I think it points a wholesome moral to us 

 all. The human will should never be set up 

 against God's; and if our faith is of a kind that 

 causes us to doubt God because he does not give 

 us just what we ask for, or because we can not 

 exactly understand his reasons, then it is a very 

 poor kind of faith indeed. Let us hold on as 

 Job did; and let us also hold fast to our faith 

 as did the patriarch of Uz when he said, as he 

 rose sublimely above the narrow range of all 

 things pertaining to this world, "Though he 

 slay me, yet will I trust in him." 



still at thy meroy-seat, seat, Savior, I fall; 

 Trusting thy promise sweet, heard Is my call; 



Faith win^s my prayer to thee ; this all my song shall be,fl 

 Jesus has died for me, Jesus my all. 



THE STRAWBEKKY INDUSTRY AT BARNESVILLE, 

 OHIO. 



For several years I have been thinking I 

 should like to visit Barnesville, and see how 

 they manage where they grow strawberries by 

 the carload and trainload, and also see what 

 varieties, whern they plant whole farms to 

 strawberries. Well, last Saturday evening I 

 received the card below: 



Dear Friend Root:— The strawberries are ripening 

 now, rather late. I think th- first of next week 

 would be a good time to visit the patches. I shall 

 be pleased to show thee around. Wm. L. Ashton. 



Barnesville, O., June 4. 



With the rush of business now upon us. It 

 was hard for me to be away for even one day, 

 and I could not afford to waste any time by 

 waiting for trains. So I looked up the state of 

 things on the new wheel-book sent out by the 

 L. A. W., and found that our Medina railway 

 strikes a station in Belmont Co. called Bannock, 

 where a limestone pike goes down to the old 

 national pike; and by making a wheelride of 

 tov/ard 20 miles over these stone pikes I found 

 I could reach Barnesville without any waiting. 

 I will not stop to tell you about my wheelride, 

 but only say that I met with about the usual 

 number of adventures. In fact, I am bearing 

 the scars of some of them while I write. 



I was warmly welcomed by our Quaker 

 friend and his boys, for he proved to be the 

 superintendent of the Quaker school, a mile out 

 from Barnesville. Near by was one of the 

 strawberry- fields; and my first introduction to 

 the strawberry- grower brought back a host of 

 memories belonging to forty years ago or more. 

 Shall I tell you why? Well, it was because 

 the introduction was something like this: 



" Brother Smith, this is Amos Root. Brother 

 Root, I make thee acquainted with Solomon 

 Smith." 



"Amos RootI" Away back in my boyhood, 

 when I was so bashful that I wanted to slip 

 around out of sight rather than meet strangers, 

 they used to call me " Amos Root;" and some- 

 how or other it did my heart good to be called 

 by that old familiar name. It seemed to say to 

 me, " You are at home, and among friends- 

 yes, /rie?ic7,s indeed;" and it seemed to strip off 

 business and business cares. Just the very 

 words made me feel that I was a boy again — a 

 quiet, backward, awkward boy; and it made 

 me feel, for just a little time, loose from all 

 business entanglements and complications. I 

 do not know but I drew a long breath of relief. 

 "A. I. Root" does not sound boyish; neither does 

 "The A. I. Root Co." And, oh I do so love to 

 be a boy once more when I get away off with 

 my wheel! 



My first glimpse was of a patch of berries on 

 a southern slope; and, by the way, there are 

 slopes and nothing but " slopes " around Barnes- 

 ville — every thing slopes — garden-patches, 

 whole farms; but, notwithstanding, I believe 

 Belmont Co. is the most thrifty and the finest- 

 looking agricultural county I ever saw any- 

 where in all my travels. Every bit of ground 

 is covered with something green at this time of 

 the year. No matter how steep the hillsides, 

 nor how high their summits, something is 

 growing. The forests have been mostly cleared 

 away, and cultivated fields — that is, fields over 

 the hilltops and down in the valleys— take their 

 places. 



