734 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE 



NOVKMBER, 1922 



before her death. I clip it from "The No- 

 Tobacco JournaL ' ' 



The Right of Every Child to Be Well Born. 



Compared with any otlier hnv, I hold in highest 

 dignity and most awful significance the law of 

 the descent of inheritance; of pre-natal influence; 

 of the determining of destiny before a human being 

 has ever known an independent heart-beat or an 

 intelligent volition. 



I believe that all reforms have their root here, 

 and that a wiser, more thoughtful age, not very 

 far distant, will stand aghast as it reads of the 

 madness of the present dance of delusion and 

 death in respect to the right of every child to 

 be well born. 



Mammoth French White Jerusalem Arti- 

 chokes by the Hundred Acres. 

 I found by looking on the map that Frank- 

 lin, Pa., where the "Eiver Ridge Farm" is 

 located, is only a little over 100 miles from 

 Medina, 0. So I wrote friend Sibley that 

 we were planning to make him a visit, and 

 asked for directions to reach his farm, for 

 we would probably make the trip there and 

 back in one day by starting very early. He 

 wrote back at once, remonstrating against 

 so short a visit, telling me to come and bring 

 my friends along and stay over night, as 

 he had quite a lot of things to show me. 

 We found the "Farm" located on a small 

 mountain of about 1300 acres. A beautiful 

 automobile road or drive led from the base 

 of the mountain to the summit, Avhere Ave 

 found a spacious mansion and a wonderful 

 view of the Allegheny Eiver and railways 

 on either side of the shore. The roadway 

 up the mountain is one of the finest pieces 

 of work in the way of road construction 

 (that will stand the storms and frosts of 

 winter) that I ever looked over. All along 

 the route are various cottages. Very good 

 building stone was found in great profusion 

 somewhere near the summit of the moun- 

 tain, and this stone was cut to accurate 

 dimensions by competent stonecutters, and 

 then just moved doini hill to where it was 

 wanted. "Entrance Lodge" is a beautiful 

 structure. 



One of the prettiest things on the route 

 was what they call the chime of bells, of 

 Avhieh I shall have more to say further on. 

 It was so near night when Ave arrived that 

 I did not have much time to visit the ar- 

 tichokes, but planned to be up bright and 

 early the next morning to look them over. 

 Til ere Avere not only fields of artichokes, but 

 one of the most beautiful Avell-kept gardens, 

 growing almost everything a family can 

 Avant, that it Avas ever my pleasure to see. 

 A few of the artichokes were about as large 

 as a pullet's egg, and some of these I car- 

 ried home to plant, even if it Avas only the 

 middle of August. Not only has friend Sib- 

 ley experimented Avith fruits and vegetables, 

 but he has some of the most beautiful floAver- 

 beds in and aliout his grounds. He has also 

 been a "chicken man"; and not only is 

 there fine poultry but a beautiful duck-pond 

 with ducks and geese by the hundreds. Vari- 

 ous kinds of Avild game are also to be seen; 



and special yards contain pheasants and 

 partridges. 



The artichokes, even at the date I men- 

 tion, were away up high above our heads, 

 and they Avere already cutting the arti- 

 chokes for ensilage and also to cure for hay 

 for feeding the horses, cattle and other 

 kinds of livestock, A^erifying Avhat I told 

 you in our journal for October. 



Last, but not least, I want to tell you 

 something more about that chime of bells. 

 But first let me digress a little. When I Avas 

 about 13 or 14 years old, in order to attend 

 a high school, I spent a winter with an 

 aunt at Wellsville, Ohio, on the Ohio Eiver. 

 Ea^cii at that early age I Avas exploring na- 

 ture; and one Saturday afternoon, Avhile out 

 in the Avoods, I got hold of some poisonous 

 plant, and my face SAvelled up so that my 

 eyes Avere closed. The doctor said they 

 Avould have to be bandaged and kept closed 

 for tAvo or three days. So your old friend 

 Avas virtually "tied up" for a time at least, 

 with nothing to do. My good aunt, however, 

 taught me hoAv to play a little French ac- 

 cordion. She had just got a little music- 

 book along with the accordion, and this book 

 contained an old piece called "Bonnie 

 Doon. " I find it noAv adA^ertised in our list 

 of phonograph records. But in those days 

 Avhile I Avas blindfolded, I gave the Avhole 

 neighborhood Bonnie Bonn until they Avere 

 probably tired of it. Let us noAv get back 

 to that chime of bells. 



A picture card I hold in my hand tells 

 me there are 11 bells, weighing "from 550 

 to 3870 pounds," and friend Sibley has pen- 

 ciled on the back of the card as below: 



Plays all church and most popular tunes. Played 

 niorning and evening each day for one hour. It 

 is one of our best investments in morals. 



After Ave looked over the beautiful struc- 

 ture, a little slip of girl, maybe a dozen 

 years old, Avas called up to play the chime 

 of bells. The keys to her instrument look- 

 ed exactly like a lot of pump-handles all in 

 a row. She had to skip back and forth to 

 reach the appropriate keys. The expression 

 to the chime Avas determined by the amount 

 of force Avith which the player struck tlio 

 bloAv on each bell, and also by the Avay she 

 kept time. Well, Avhat do you suppose hap- 

 pened? The first piece she played Avas Bon- 

 nie Doon! As the entrancing beauty of 

 that Avonderful melody reached my poor 

 deaf ears — deaf to most ordinary music — 

 I first uncovered my head as I stood out in 

 the bright sunshine, and then I began to 

 cry; but my tears Avere tears of ]o\ and 

 not of sorroAV. Let me digress a little. 



Since Mrs. Boot's death T haA'e had a ncAv 

 glimpse of heaven. There is one of the old 

 Gospel Hymns that reads: 



T know not the hour when my Lord will come 

 To take mo aw.ay to his o-wn dear home: 

 But T know that his presence will lighten the 



gloom. 

 And that Avill be Heaven for m?.* 



*This hymn was my good old father's favorite, 

 and as he drf^w bis last breath on earth I hel(i 

 his band while I sang the hymn. 



