60 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Jan. 15. 



I felt both disgusted and impatient. I had 

 been bantered already a great deal in regard 

 to the amount of time and money I had wast- 

 ed in my project of a "storage battery " for 

 heat. One of the hands in the machine-shop 

 asked me, jokingly, if I had got at my win- 

 ter's work again, for I worker! at it more or 

 less last winter until I went to the Bermudas. 

 The apparatus worked beautifully, so Mrs. 

 Root said, until I got fairly out of sight, then 

 the steam stopped coming, and our men wast- 

 ed quite a little time in trying to find the stop- 

 page, but they had to give it up. So the hot- 

 water radiators were kept warm the rest of the 

 winter by the hot-water furnace that had been 

 put in to use when the steam got " balky." I 

 told the boys I was at work on a great inven- 

 tion in a hitherto unexplored field, and that it 

 cost lots of money to work out any important 

 discovery. I kept thinking the matter over, 

 and, you may be sure, praying over it. At 

 times I felt almost ashamed to ask for wisdom 

 from above, simply because this was a hobby 

 of mine. I told myself the temperance work, 

 the missionary work, and a thousand other 

 things were of so much more importance that 

 I should be ashamed of devoting so much 

 thought (and prayer) to this sort of "play," 

 as a good many might term it. But I could 

 not get the matter out of my mind. I enjoy- 

 ed myself more working in the mud and hot 

 water, with those tiles, than with any thing 

 else in the world — at least while I was demon- 

 strating or testing some new ideas. I felt 

 ashamed to confess it to anybody else, but I 

 think I may tell you, dear reader, that I lay 

 awake nights waiting for daylight so I could 

 go on with the work I loved. My appetite was 

 excellent — no trouble from indigestion — and I 

 was so full of enthusiasm that I could hardly 

 take time for my forenoon nap. I managed, 

 however, to sleep fifteen or twenty minutes in 

 order to gain strength to go on with the work. 

 After my glazed sewer-pipe had failed I began 

 to consider iron pipes, laid from the factory 

 almost over to the house. I was agreeably 

 surprised one day to find I could buy three- 

 inch pipe for 13 cents a foot; and 230 feet 

 would carry the steam near enough to the 

 house, where the tiles ran up a very good 

 grade into the cellar. This latter 100 feet or 

 more had never been troubled with water or 

 mud. One great trouble with iron pipes is 

 their expansion and contraction. A pipe 200 

 feet in length is several inches longer when 

 hot steam is passing through it than when 

 cold; besides, it does not heat up a body of 

 ground as the tiles do. With much trouble 

 and expense I pulled out all the sewer-pipe 

 that had been laid so carefully. Then I put it 

 down again, sloping toward the house on a 

 grade of one inch fall in every twenty feet. 

 The iron pipe was put inside of this tile ; and 

 when at the lowest point near the house a 

 " bleeder " was put in, or a smaller pipe, to 

 take away the hot water formed by the con- 

 densed steam. 



Near the factory, of course, we had to carry 

 the pipe clear up to the surface of the ground 

 in order to get the requisite fall. To provide 

 for the contraction and expansion, an elbow 



was placed at the starting-out point so it would 

 turn like a hinge ; then the first half of the 

 pipe was put in a wooden box with a smooth 

 bottom of oak plank. On this oak plank, 

 every four or five feet we placed little iron 

 rollers so the pipe could crawl back and forth 

 without smashing things up generally. To 

 put in such a piece of work in the dead of win- 

 ter is quite an undertaking. Two men (spe- 

 cial friends of mine) said they could stand it 

 if / could. When we were putting the pipe 

 together one of the men from the machine- 

 shop kindly went down into the mud and wa- 

 ter with his tools in order to make the con- 

 nections. Right in a critical time, when we 

 were afraid our ditches would all cave in 

 through the influence of the frost and rain, it 

 seemed one morning as if we should have to 

 give it up until winter was over. Some of the 

 work had caved in, the tiles were out of place, 

 and the outlook was exceedingly discouraging. 

 My clothes were so muddy I looked worse than 

 any tramp. I had a " crick " in my back from 

 lifting injudiciously ; my rubbers came off in 

 the mud ; my shoestrings were untied ; my 

 nose needed wiping, but my hands were so 

 muddy that I could not get at my handker- 

 chief ; then, besides, I felt I was taking cold. 

 But yet I did not want to give up the thing 

 that was so dear to my heart. I remembered 

 well the little prayer as I stood still in my pre- 

 dicament. My good-natured helpers were 

 waiting for me to decide what to do next. I 

 felt almost ashamed to utter simply that old 

 brief petition, " Lord, help ! " I prefaced it 

 with something like this: "O Lord, if this 

 thing thy servant holds so dear to his heart is 

 not displeasing in thy sight, wilt thou once 

 more, as thou hast so many times in bygone 

 days, help him to succeed in this undertaking 

 — not for his own sake alone, but for others 

 who may be so situated as to be able to avail 

 themselves of what he may accomplish." I 

 remember wondering then if I should be able 

 to tell the men what to do as I had so many 

 times before under similar circumstances. 

 And, dear reader, this case is no exception to 

 my previous experience. All at once I saw 

 how I could change my plan, at no very great 

 expense, and make a decided improvement. 

 The sun came out in a little while ; I fished 

 my rubber out of the mud, tied my shoes in 

 spite of my lame back, got another pair of 

 mittens while Mrs. Root washed the muddy 

 ones, and after the sun came out we had very 

 good weather until the work was completed. 

 The apparatus worked to perfection so far as 

 the steam was concerned. Mrs. Root rejoiced 

 to feel the floor under her feet warm once 

 more as the steam coursed through the pipes 

 in the basement ; and in a very little time the 

 steam was pouring out of the chimney (after 

 having warmed the house) instead of wasting 

 itself in a zero air over at the factory. 



I said the steam went through all right; but 

 not so with the hot-water pipes. Owing to 

 some changes made, the water would not cir- 

 culate. I waited two or three days; ran water 

 through under pressure to get out all the air ; 

 but every little while the radiators would be 

 cold again. I knew what the trouble was, or 



