1903 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



in the bee-keeping world jears ago, ema- 

 nating from "Our Clearing," somewhere 

 in the woods of Northern Michigan. The 

 author, Cyula Linswik, remained for a 

 long time unknown to the public except by 

 name. "Well, this writer proved to be Miss 

 Lucy A. Wilkins, of Farwell, Clare Co., 

 Mich. Her no}n </(? /!»/«;;/6' was simply made 

 up of the letters in her true name, trans- 

 posed. Our older readers will remember 

 that I made a visit to said clearing, and 

 wrote up my visit something like 18 years 

 ago. Well, friend Bingham said if I would 

 not stay with him over night we must visit 

 Miss Lettie and Miss Lucy Wilkins, for 

 they are still bee-keepers to some extent. 

 I can't tell you all about our pleasant visit 

 there. The clearing in the woods has, dur- 

 ing these years, given place to a beautiful 

 home in the midst of the cleared fields; but 

 the old cottage home that stood in the woods 

 is standing still. It has so much rustic 

 beaut}' about it that W. Z. Hutchinson re- 

 cently photographed it and used it for an 

 article to illustrate bee culture in Couritry 

 Life in America. But the article did not 

 teil where the vine-clad cottage, with its 

 bee-hives near, was to be found. Close by 

 said cottage we found Huber and Miss Let- 

 tie sampling some of the finest Loudon 

 raspberries I ever saw. When I had eaten 

 so man}' that I was afraid to eat any more, 

 Miss Lettie offered me another great hand- 

 ful, remarking', laughingly, as she did so, 

 "Why, Mr. Root, you know they won't 

 hurt you if you just think they won't." T. 

 B. Terry may have more listeners to what 

 he says about health than he thinks. There 

 is a beautiful driveway leading from the 

 big gate up to the Wilkins home that is 

 quite a contrast to the sand roads around 

 Farwell; and Huber took the sisters up 

 this road and around the large white house 

 on the grassy lawn, with the automobile. 

 Through this region, where the roads are 

 not made passable with either clay or grav- 

 el, or both, it is pretty hard getting through 

 the sand in dry weather. If the good peo- 

 ple of Farwell should want to go to church 

 with an automobile tliey might get some- 

 where near the church, but they would have 

 a very hard task in getting right up to the 

 door unless they should first do something 

 with the sand. 



Mr. P. H. Orth, of Sears, Mich., has a 

 very pretty place and a lot of nice children; 

 and, by the way, 1 was again and again 

 astonished to find such beautiful farms and 

 farm homes all along, even in the northern 

 part of the State, where I had been led to 

 suppose there were only barren pines. Os- 

 ceola Co., for instance, has some very pret- 

 ty country places and country roads. 



At Evart we had a very nice visit with 

 Mr. Oliver Rhone. His father treated us 

 to ripe strawberries during the last of Jul}'. 

 He said he thought they were the Gandy, 

 but he could not be quite sure. 



About six miles north of Evart there is a 

 flowing well that throws a volume of water 

 still larger and with greater force than the 



one mentioned at Mr. Boyden's. Although 

 it would furnish power enough to generate 

 an electric current of considerable value, 

 nothing seems to be doing about it. 



Our last stopping-place before running 

 into Traverse City was with Mr. F. B. 

 Cavanagh. The Cavanaghs have a beauti- 

 ful farm, with enough out-buildings to make 

 it seem almost like a little town, and with 

 a large farm all around them. Although 

 the bee-keeper is a boy of only 22, he al- 

 ready counts his colonies by the hundreds, 

 and has two out-apiaries. 



The road to Traverse City was very much 

 better than I anticipated; and the view of 

 Traverse Bay from the hills five or six 

 miles south of the city is one of the finest I 

 ever saw in any land. In fact, I don't 

 know but it equals the celebrated Yumuri 

 Valley described by Humboldt. This road 

 into Traverse City is also very fine. Nu- 

 merous springs pour their liquid treasures 

 into watering-troughs by the wayside. Oh 

 how I do love to see these watering-places 

 for man and beast I and I love to hear the 

 babbling brooks, and drink of the beauti- 

 ful soft water in these sandy hills. There 

 may be other water and other springs like 

 those around Grand Traverse Bay, but I 

 am afraid I haven't found them. 



They ?aid in their heart, I,et us destroy them to- 

 gether: they have burned up all the synagogues of 

 God in the land. . . . O God, how long shall the 

 adversary reproach? shall the entmy blaspheme thy 

 name for ever? — Psalm 74 : 8, 10. 



In our recent trip through Michigan I 

 was not only interested in studying the 

 financial prosperity of the country and the 

 country towns, but I was noting with great 

 interest the spirituality of the different 

 towns through which we passed, and es- 

 pecially where we made any sort of ftop. 

 I have already mentioned the excellent ser- 

 mons we listened to on the Sabbath in two 

 of the country towns. The audiences were 

 larger than I expected to see, and the ser- 

 mons were far above what I expected to 

 hear in such very small towns. We spent 

 one Sabbath, however, in a place where the 

 sentiment of the verses I have chosen as a 

 text was brought vividly to mind. The 

 town contained perhaps three or four hun- 

 dred inhabitants. There were two hotels, 

 two drygoods stores, two hardware stores, 

 one drugstore, etc., and all seemed to be do- 

 ing a good business. There were rich 

 farming lands around the town, and large 

 potato-warehouses near the depot for stor- 

 ing the crops of potatoes. There was only 

 one church in the place; and this one church, 

 if the people could be united, and would at- 

 tend, would be enough. I found on inquiry, 

 however, that the church and every thing 



