1881 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTUKE. 



40o 



|wi' tmm- 



How amiable ir c thy tabernacles, Lord of hosts! 

 My soul lonaeth, yea, even lainteth lor the co\irts of 

 the Lord: ray heart and my tlesh crieth out for the 

 living God.— Psalm 84: 1, »'. 



M T 6 o'clock, Friday evening of the loUi 

 ^h of July, I was at work in the office ; 

 ' but at 7 I was on my way to see Fer- 

 ry's seed-gardens. 1 told the hands at the 

 noon service where 1 was going, and why. 

 It was a beautiful tranquil evening as we 

 crossed the lake, but after enjoying it 

 a half-hour I began to be ashamed of myself 

 for having nothing to do. No one seemed 

 to talk. If I went to bed without saying 

 a word for the Master to anybody, I should 

 miss a joyous consciousness of Ivi^ presence, 

 that I dislike to fall asleep without. - Near 

 me sat a man who had l)een silent) like my- 

 self. With a prayer for the blessing that 

 had been given me so many times before, I 

 opened conversation. lie was a manufactu- 

 rer, like myself, and employed many hands. 

 lie, too, lamented the presence of tobacco, 

 whisky, and profanity. Although a for- 

 eigner by birth, he was free from all these 

 vices. lie was a member of no chtircli ; but 

 before we closed, he promised me, though 

 perhaps indirectly, to "seek the kingdom,'' 

 for he said he hati been for some time tend- 

 ing that way. God blessed the effort in an- 

 other way too, for they make a kind of 

 goods I had long been wanting to get direct 

 from the manufacturers. 



The tirst bee-man I found was Otto Klei- 

 now, of Detroit. He is a young ({erman, 

 but I tell you he is a good bee-keeper. His 

 yard is entirely surrounded by a high board 

 fence, and the ground is covered with saw- 

 dust. The hives are all chaff, neatly made 

 and nicely painted. On the fronts of many, 

 are beautiful pictures. His native taste for 

 gardening shows itself in the beaitti fully ar- 

 ranged and trimmed shrubbery. ( )n a pret- 

 ty little peach-tree we found a swarm of 

 gentle yellow Italians. In fact, his bees are 

 all gentle and yellow. 1 found the queen as 

 they hung on the tree, and we put them in a 

 hive. Honey seems coming yet in plenty. 

 Otto is extremely nice and particular in ev- 

 ery thing (he is over 30, and unmarried ; but 

 I "scolded" him about it.) Although his 

 father keeps a beer-garden. Otto neither 

 drinks, swears, nor uses tobacco. Very kind 

 and respectable people are his parents, and I 

 hope, as I have been told, no intemperance 

 is allowed on the premises. 



Mr. Hunt is a fair type of one of America's 

 independent young farmers of the present 

 day. lie is not what men call rich in this 

 world's goods, but he is rich in brain and 

 mxiscle, and a lover of square honest work 

 on his own ground. His pleasant little home 

 is all the work of his own hands, and the 

 young man who could look on it and not be 

 inspired to "go and do likewise" isn't wor- 

 thy of living under the American Hag. His 

 apiary is on a lawn, and is in the shape of a 

 hollow square, the bees all going out toward 

 the center. Like friend Kleinow's they are 

 very prettily painted. The effect from the 



street, of some of these painted with orna- 

 mental paneling, is exceedingly pretty. 

 Friend II. makes his own hives, paints 

 them, and does every thing. One of the 

 first things that attracted my attention as I 

 jumped out of the buggy was a prettily 

 painted Adams' horse-power made from a 

 drawing and description given in Glean- 

 ings in former volumes. It works splen- 

 didly, but friend II. says you must use a 

 chain instead of rope. It costs but little 

 more, and can remain right out in the 

 weather. The wheel sliould be not less than 

 15 feet in diameter. 



Ferry's seed-store is an immense l>uilding. 

 The appliances for accuracy, and for facili- 

 tating work, more than once reminded me 

 of our little building at home. 



On the way to the seed-garden I asked 

 friend Hunt about liis reasons for not going 

 to church and Sabbath-school. It was the 

 old story of the "inconsistencies of Chris- 

 tians." One instance given was of that of 

 the members of a church in his neighbor- 

 hood, wlio turned off" a nice young minister 

 because he went out shooting with the boys 

 of his congregation. Another was of a min- 

 ister who raised and kept so many chickens 

 that they damaged friend Hunt's fruits and 

 garden to a most aggravating extent. When 

 our friend expostulated with him in a ("'hris- 

 tianlike way, he asked him if he could not 

 get a little dog and train him to drive them 

 out. This minister turned out badly, as I 

 should suppose he would. The people were 

 bad, and tlie ministers were bad, and friend 

 II. didn't want any thing to do with them ; 

 that is, he did not want to go to their meet- 

 ings. These cases occurred some time ago, 

 however. Friend Hunt likes the minister 

 they have now, and I think he likes the peo- 

 ple; and I guess, too, he is going to church. 



Of course, thisholding aloof because others 

 are not doing right is not the thing; but is 

 there not a lesson for ministers and profess- 

 ing Christians to learn V .lust take a look at 

 friend Hunt's nice little garden, where he 

 has labored hours while nearly all the rest of 

 the village were asleep, and see the berries 

 and fruit he has watched and loved as only 

 an enthusiast can love such things. It 

 would seem that any minister should rec- 

 ognize tlie very great need of getting the 

 youth of our land interested in such rural 

 indtistries ; but to annoy one such, and to 

 discourage him by the depredations of chick- 

 ens— how will this do for a motto for minis- 

 ters and other people ?— 



"If chickens make my brother to offend, 

 I will keep no chickens while the world 

 standeth." 



In talking over industrial matters, friend 

 II. made the remark, that he once used to 

 spend a great deal of his time lounging in 

 the grocery. I guess tliat was before he got 

 married, for his wife says he now works so 

 many hours on his grounds she has to plead 

 with him to stop. He has raised 147 bushels 

 of strawberries from a single acre of ground. 



Ferry's seed-garden is immense. Fields 

 almost as white as snow with the blossoms 

 of seed onions stretch far into the distance. 

 As our visit was made in tlie afternoon, but 

 few bees were on them. 'I he work is most- 



