658 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Aug. 15. 



man who has unfailing patience, possessing 

 the skill of the finest die-sinker and tool-mak- 

 er. The first cost of the dies, and the liabili- 

 ty to damage or breakage, will, I am afraid, 

 render deep-cell foundation little more than 

 a wonder in mechanical possibilities. 



For the further consideration of this subject 

 see one of Dr. Miller's straws, and the answer 

 thereto, in this issue. 



OUR 

 HOMES, 



BY A.r. ROOT. 



I,et there be no strife, I pray thee, between me and 

 thee, and between my herdmen and thy herdmen ; 

 for we be brethren. — Gen. 13:8. 



I suppose there have been hundreds and 

 may b-.' t'-ousands of sermons preached from 

 this celebrated text, this grand sentiment ut- 

 tered by that old patriarch Abraham. There 

 have been sermons on the latter part where he 

 says, "We be brethren;" and there have 

 been many sermons also, I presume, on that 

 first part in regard to " strife ; " but I am in- 

 clined to think I have something to say about 

 strife that has not been said in just the way I 

 want to say it, and very likely many of you 

 will not agree with me — or, let me say, per- 

 haps very many of the '■'brethren " will not 

 agree with me. The children laugh at me be- 

 cause I am so averse to strife about any thing. 

 No doubt the grandchildren will laugh, when 

 they are a little older, about grandpa's ideas 

 in regard to contests. Yes, to tell the truth, 

 judging from more than half a century's ex- 

 perience, I am not in favor of contests of any 

 sort. Now, do not understand by this that I 

 do not believe in rewards, for I certainly do ; 

 that is, where a reward is offered to every one 

 who does something meritorious. But I do 

 not believe in setting a lot of people to work 

 (or a lot of children, if you choose), and re- 

 warding one and giving all the others nothing. 

 I sometimes tell Mrs. Root (for she /c*? is rath- 

 er against me), that the prize business is like 

 setting a lot of boys to sawing and splitting 

 wood on a hot July day. They will work 

 hard, every one of them, and yet all the pay 

 for all the wood that is cut is given to just one 

 boy, and nothing to the rest. Some of the 

 larger ones say the rest do get something — 

 they get exercise, and acquire skill by the ef- 

 fort to win the prize. But, dear friends, can 

 not the boys get exercise, and acquire skill, 

 and have pay for the work done, just the same 

 as other people get, either boys or men ? 



But this is not just the point I have most at 

 heart. There was strife between the herdmen 

 of Abram's cattle and the herdmen of Lot's 

 cattle. Hired men are ever ready to get into 

 strife. They like the fun of it. It is a kind 

 of excitement that varies the monotony of the 

 dull routine of hard work ; and when they 

 get into such a strife each side is very loyal to 

 its employer — that is, the contestants think 

 they are. just as our soldier boys were very 



loyal to Uncle Samuel when the war broke 

 out with Spain. Was it altogether patriotism, 

 or was it not somewhat a craze for entering 

 into strife for seeing who could beat or win ? 

 I do not think I am stubborn or obstinate in 

 the matter, but I really can not conscientious- 

 ly take part in any thing when it begins to be 

 evident there is a striie to see who will beat 

 or who will come out ahead. Of course, it 

 does not always assume the bitterness and 

 hatred that we see — well, say in horse racing. 

 Once in my life I was asked to be judge in a 

 horse-race. I saw the faces of the contestants. 

 From their actions I caught a glimpse of the 

 fierce spirit that stirred them — a spirit that 

 would impel them to kill the horse, or even 

 kill themselves, rather than be beaten by the 

 man they hated. When I innocently and hon- 

 estly announced the decision of the judges, 

 the losing man called me the worst names, 

 coupled with oaths and curses, that his angry 

 tongue could get hold of. I do not see how I 

 can an}' longer be a follower of Christ Jesus, 

 and take part in any such contest or strife, if 

 that is a better word. 



Some of the young ones may say, "Why, 

 Uncle Amos, you are getting to be too old for 

 such things. If you feel as you do, we will 

 excuse you ; but can we not, each of us, do as 

 we think right in such matters? " Of course, 

 you can do as you think right ; but when you 

 say I am too old I fear you are making a mis- 

 take. Let me illustrate : A bright little niece 

 of mine once said, " Why, Uncle Amos, why 

 not let everybody do as he likes about going 

 to circuses? If you do not like circuses, don't 

 go; but why not let those of us who do like 

 them go with other people ? " 



" Why, my dear friend Mabel, I do like cir- 

 cuses just as well as any of you children. I 

 should greatly enjoy seeing a great part of the 

 performances this afternoon. In fact, it has 

 always been hard for me, when circuses come 

 around, to think that I could not consistently 

 go with other people." 



" Why, if that is true, zv/iy don't you go 

 with the rest of us ? I am sure I would if I 

 wanted to " 



I do not know just what I replied to this 

 last, but I might make a reply something like 

 this : 



" Dear young friends, do not for a moment 

 think I have no enjoyment in, or, if you 

 choose, longing for, things I feel compelled to 

 decide are not best. Why, to tell the truth I 

 frequently have great longings for a glass of 

 lager beer — not only a glass, but I should like 

 a whole pitcherful. If it were not wicked, 

 and it would not trouble my conscience, I do 

 not know but I would give half a dollar will- 

 ingly for all the lager beer I wanted to drink. 

 I am ashamed to say it, but I want you to 

 know that I am human. I am just like other 

 people. I need not tell you why I do not 

 drink the beer. When I see the awful wreck 

 and ruin that it is making, not only here at 

 home, but in every part of the world, I can 

 not think of touching a drop of it, no matter 

 how badly I want it ; and I am heartily asham- 

 ed of that old appetite, started before I was 

 25 years old, that clings to me still." But 



