12oS 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



Oct. 1 



ami the bees will do the rest, ami there will 

 be no im'itiug to rob. 

 Byron. 111. Fkank K. Randall. 



[We have just received an article by Dr. 

 Phil. Max Boelte. in which an entrance feed- 

 er arranged to hold three sections at a time 

 is described. This will appear in Glean- 

 ING.S soon. — Ed.] 



:;C/^ 





If I regai-d iniquity in my heart, the Lord will not 

 hear me.— Psalm 66 : 18. 



I had nearly half an hour to wait for my 

 train. I had just received two milage-books 

 from the railroad companies on our adver- 

 tising contract, and I began looking over my 

 foldei's to see if the two bocjks would take 

 me through the Black Hills of South Dakota 

 and back to Matlison, Wis. I was much sur- 

 prised and troubled to find it was almost 500 

 miles to Omaha, and a full 500 more to the 

 further points of the Black Hills. This be- 

 ing true, my two books would laud me only 

 a thousand miles from home, and I should 

 be obliged to pay cash for my return at 

 whatever the railroad companies saw tit to 

 charge me. It was a hot day. and nearly 

 train time. I had been perspiring before, 

 and this discovery set me to perspiring hard- 

 er. Just at this "time several newsboys be- 

 gan pushing their papers before my face, 

 and one very diminutive one itrged so im- 

 portunately 1 got vexed, and said. "No. no! 

 I don't want any of your papers — get out of 

 my way." 



I noticed this little chap seemed to feel hurt: 

 but I was in a "peck of trouble." I looked 

 my maps and Ijooks over again, and it seem- 

 ed to me there must be some mistake in my 

 figures; but there it all stood in hard black 

 and white. With the sweat dropping from 

 the end of my nose, my old, old prayer, 

 ''Lord, heljj," Inirst forth almost of itself, as 

 it usually does when 1 begin to think there 

 is no other way out. Well, this time there 

 was a very swift answer to my little prayer. 

 I wiped the sweat from my brow and took 

 another look at my milage-book. I almost 

 said out loud, "Why, you blundering old 

 idiot!" I had all the time been calling my 

 two books 500 miles each, when they were 

 really 1000 miles each. 



The praver was answered, and I fervently 

 thanked God. even if it was a deliverance 

 from only imaginary trouble: and. by the 

 way. are not a good many of our troubles of 

 this kind? But just as I began to laugh and 

 look happy again I felt there was some- 

 thing still 1 could not exactly define that 

 clouded my peace. What was it? Oh, yes! 



conscience was upbraiding me for being cross 

 to that little speck of a newsboy. Sure 

 enough, there he was yet, near by. 



"Sonny, I beg your pardon. 1 think I do 

 want your last paper, after all. How much 

 is it?" 



"Only one cent." 



"Why, dear me! I haven't a thing less 

 than a dollar." 



"I'll get it changed, mister, at the ticker- 

 office." 



I saw him standing on tiptoe of his little 

 bare feet as he pushed the coin up into view 

 of the ticket-man; but he soon returned with 

 a disappointed look on his face, saying that 

 the ticket-man was "too btisy," but he said 

 he would borrow the change of some one 

 and come round pretty soon if I would stay 

 there and keep my dollar. I forgot all about 

 him, until just as my train pulled in, and 

 then he came up witli his little fist hai'dly 

 able to cover the handful of coins, saying: 



"Mister, if you count this you will see 

 there is just *J9 cents. Now you give me the 

 dollar and here is your paper." 



The little chap had worked toward half an 

 hour to sell a paper for which he received 

 only one cent, and he probably had to find 

 some one who would trust him to the extent 

 of 99 cents until he found me and got back. 

 As I looked into his honest face I breathed a 

 prayer that the Holy Spirit might protect his 

 honest energetic little soul from the contam- 

 inating influences of this great busy traffick- 

 ing world. Some of you may suggest I might 

 have given him at least a nickel; but I think 

 I ditl right. He was learning business and 

 independence, and he neither needed nor 

 asked charity. 



While the porter was getting my berth 

 ready I went over my figures again with 

 the 2000 miles at my disposal, and was a lit- 

 tle disappointed to find 1 was still about 200 

 miles short. 



Next morning as the Pullman conductor 

 handed me my milage-book I saw, as soon as 

 I opened it, that not enough milage had been 

 removed. It was a little queer, but there 

 was a mistake in my favor of just about two 

 hundred miles. I am ashamed to admit, dear 

 friends, that for a brief time I tried to argue 

 with myself that it would be all right to keep 

 still and thank — well, who? — that the con- 

 ductor had blundered. It was only for an 

 instant, however. How could I ever use my 

 little prayer. " Lord, help," again, had I kept 

 still? I held it up before the gentlemanly 

 Pullman conductor, and his eyes had in them 

 a funny twinkle as he said: 



• ' Why, you are ahead so much. If I were 

 you /wouldn't kick — you are all right, sure/'' 



"I may be all right, but the railroad com- 

 pany is not. Can you have this made right?"' 



"/can't do any thing with it; but if you 

 insist I will ask the train conductor to see to 

 it; but I advise you to let it drop and call it 

 your good luck." 



Whenever he passed I saw that same 

 twinkle in his eye, and, feeling sure he would 

 do nothing about it, I hunted up the other 

 conductor. He laughed at me, and so did 



