482 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



June 15. 



ON THE WHEEL. 



There were two reasons why I had not had 

 a long wheelride this spring. With so much 

 rain till toward the last of May, the roads 

 have been bad; and with such a great crowd 

 of business it seemed almost wicked for me 

 to desert my post. About the first of June, 

 however, I began to feel a good deal used up. 

 When everybody else was around in summer 

 clothing, I still held on to my overcoat and 

 fur cap; and if the wind got in the northeast, 

 I was having grip and rheumatic pains or 

 some other kind, it does not matter what they 

 were. I had been reading letters so much 

 that the mere act of reading a letter affected 

 me very much as it used to when I tried to 

 answer all the correspondence with my right 

 hand and with a pen or pencil. First I had 

 to stop writing; then I got a typewriter, and 

 wrote with my left hand. When I could do 

 this no longer I began to dictate; but of late, 

 reading letters, or even dictating, seems to 

 affect my right arm much as writing with a 

 pencil did years ago. Yes, and finally it got 

 so bad that I could not read the war news in 

 the evening more than 15 or 20 minutes, with- 

 out getting that old pain in my right arm and 

 side. My digestion was bad also, and I began 

 to think my days of usefulness were about 

 gone by. How about the wheel? Well, I be- 

 gan to have despondent misgivings that even 

 the wheel would fail this time. Finally I be- 

 gan to be so troubled about my health that I 

 (once more) commenced praying over the 

 matter. I wonder if somebody sa3-s to him- 

 self, " Why, Bro. Root, where was all jour 

 faith in God you have been for years talking 

 so much about ? You tried this, that, and the 

 other; and last of all, instead oi first of all (as 

 we might expect from your teachings), you 

 went down on your knees and laid the whole 

 matter before the great Father above." Well, 

 dear friends, I do not know how it is; but that 

 seems to be the old story over and over again. 

 When I get into real trouble, and there seems 

 to be no other outlet, then I bethink myself of 

 God's promises. 



One evening, about the first of June, when 

 I had been trying to read, and found that it 

 absolutely would not answer, just before going 

 to bed I asked God with unusual fervency to 

 take the poor remnant of myself into his hands 

 and keeping, and tell me what he would have 

 me do. Just after that prayer I remembered 

 that I had a pressing invitation to attend a 

 bee-keepers' and hcirticulturists' meeting in 

 the southern part of our State. In fact, the 

 invitation had come some weeks before; but I 

 decided it would be out of the question for me 

 to desert my post at this busy time. But 

 when it began to seem as if I was not going to 

 be of much use at home I changed my mind. 



On the morning of June 1st I was up at 

 four o'clock, tiptoeing around the kitchen in 



my stocking-feet, so as not to awaken Mrs. 

 Root. After the fire was lighted, the kettle 

 boiling, and every thing ready for her, I told 

 her I must be off in just 20 minutes. She 

 scolded me for not having awakened her soon- 

 er, and a little after five I was on my Colum- 

 bia chainless, with light summer clothing. I 

 thought once I should have to take my over- 

 coat and fur cap. But I began to have faith 

 that the wheel would banish the chills as it 

 had done many times before. 



My first destination was Sterling, Wayne 

 Co., Ohio, where I was to catch the 7:40 train. 

 I made the 14 miles in plenty of time, besides 

 making a few pleasant calls on people I knew 

 on the way. Then I enjoyed a hundred miles 

 or more on the cars. Oh how pretty our State 

 of Ohio looked on that June morning ! My 

 wheelride of 14 miles had sent the blood 

 coursing through my veins so as to give me 

 life enough to enjoy the beauties of a June 

 ride over the country. 



I left the train at Springfield, the county- 

 seat of Clarke Co., a little after twelve o'clock. 

 As I had the whole afternoon for making 

 about twenty miles, I decided to visit a won- 

 derful Indian mound at Enon, Clarke Co. My 

 ride took me over the Dayton pike. In this 

 part of the Staie, limestone pikes go out in 

 every direction; and one can ride at almost 

 any time when it is not actually raining. As 

 I neared the town of Enon, the mound was in 

 plain sight. It rises abruptly in the middle 

 of a clover-field. The height is about 40 feet, 

 and the sides are about as steep as dirt can be 

 piled up. On the summit there is a level place 

 some fifteen or twenty feet across, and one of 

 the largest pear-tiees I ever saw grows up 

 there with great luxuriance. In fact, a little 

 orchard has recently been planted all over 

 this mound. A friend suggested that these 

 mounds are the burial-places of ancient chiefs 

 or kings Said chief is always buried with 

 his tomahawk, and trinkets made of copper, 

 flint, etc.; and to prevent other tribes from 

 digging up the body or bodies they adopted 

 the plan of piling dirt over the remains. The 

 greater the chi'.f, the bigger the pile of dirt, 

 'the secret of the luxuriant grass, weeds, etc., 

 and brush all over this mound, I judged to be 

 because they had scraped up the surface soil 

 to make it. A friend told me they often bur- 

 ied a number of persons with their heads in 

 the center and feet out, like the spokes of a 

 wheel. The copper ornaments and valuables 

 were placed near the heads, in the center; 

 then dirt was carried and put over all in such 

 a quantity that other tiibes would not be very 

 likely to take the trouble to dig it away or 

 disturb the remains. I wish that somebody 

 conversant in such matters would tell me if I 

 have a correct understanding of the reason 

 why so many of these Indian mounds are found 

 in different parts of Ohio. 



Seven or eight miles from Enon I was told 

 there was a celebrated spring at a town called 

 Yellow Springs. They told me I would have 

 to take a back road off from the pike, but they 

 thought I would find it quite smooth if I did 

 not mind the hills. I found the road very 

 much pleasanter in one respect than the stone 



