660 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



June 15 



On this tongue of land, almost surrounded by 

 water, are the Ne-ah-ta-wan-ta Hotel, Old 

 Mission, and other celebrated health resorts. 



The cabin itself, I need not mention to tell 

 you what it is. On top of the hill back of 

 the cabin you will notice that beautiful com- 

 bination of maples, beeches, and evergreens 

 which I have so many times described. You 

 can distinguish the maples by the bright 

 new tin sap-pails hanging to the trees. You 

 can get a little glimpse of my strawberry- 

 patch between the house and the trees on 

 the hill. Our flower-garden is on the right 

 of the picture near the door-step. The 

 peach-trees you will see scattered in the 

 front yard, and clear up among the forest- 

 trees, where we cleared the forest away. 

 The little kitchen with its white brick chim- 

 ney rising above is the spot where Mrs. 

 Root and I spend so many happy hours. It 

 is so diminutive that, when we are both in 

 the kitchen at once, we are necessarily 

 pretty close together. But that did not 

 make any trouble at all, any more than it 

 did when we were in our teens instead of 

 being over sixty years of age. 



The water-pipe from the spring away off 

 in the opposite corner of our forty acres 

 comes right up near the kitchen door, and it 

 gives water enough so I enjoy experiment- 

 ing with strawberries and other garden stuff 



under the influence of abundant irrigation. 

 On the sandy loam around the cabin there is 

 not much danger of overwatering. 



Mr. Hutchinson and myself I need not 

 describe. You know us both, or at least 

 every bee-keeper in our land ought to know 

 us. You can not very well afford not to 

 know Bro. Hutchinson, and I do not think 

 you can afford to omit taking his journal. 



I could talk all day about the things I 

 love in and around that cabin, but we must 

 hasten on. 



Let us now get down to the sugar-camp. 

 We will take the path that leads from that 

 little kitchen down the hill into the ravine, 

 and here is what we find. 



You will recognize me by my fur cap, and 

 because my head is so near that of the 

 horse. One of the Spencer boys is on top 

 of the barrel of sap. They draw their sap 

 with a light buggy because they happen to 

 have it, and it seems to be very convenient 

 in getting over rough places in the woods. 

 Mrs. Spencer, who bosses the camp week 

 days, and superintends the Sunday-school on 

 Sunday, is standing in the sugar-house door; 

 but the picture is hardly accurate enough to 

 give us much of a glimpse of her. She is 

 one of God's jewels— one of the kind who 

 love righteousness and hate iniquity, for her 

 children's sake if for no other reason; and 



THE SUGAR-HOUSE AND SUGAR-CAMP NEAR THE CABIN IN THE WOODS. 



