433 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE, 



•Mar. 15 



wings, and so wherever I went a "retinue" 

 was ahead, behind, and between my feet. 

 When I tried to run away from them it on- 

 ly increased their glee, and the way their 

 tiny feet would spin was a caution. When I 

 went into the house a "delegation" would 

 surround the doorstep awaiting my return. 

 If I was gone too long it was "Chirp, chirp, 

 chirp;" but when I opened the door, there 

 was a flopping of the pearly baby wings and 

 the glad "Chee, chee, chee." When I was 

 potting plants they climbed all over my feet, 

 and I have thought several times I ought to 

 tell Mrs. Root there was somebody down here 

 in Florida who, \nreal truth, "loved the verj' 

 ground I walked on." 



1 told them again and again they would 

 surely get stepped on, but they jusc laughed 

 as at a joke at the thought that I, who loved 

 them, would harm a feather of their little bits 

 of bodies. Sometimes I let them climb up 

 my feet and get on my knees. This is a' 

 great treat for them. They crawl up my 

 sleeve, under my vest and coat, get on my 

 shouldei', examine my ears and eyes, mean- 

 while making a musical little concert of 

 their "Chee, chee, chee." Their SQnse of 

 hearing is just wonderful. After they have 

 tired of their vigil at the dooi"step, they wan- 

 der off in the garden; but I can see them out 

 of the window, and the moment I move my 

 feet under the table they hear the sound and 

 are back at the dooi'step to give me welcome 

 when I come out. Now, it isn't their food, 

 for I keep this by them all the time. 1 am 

 forced to conclude it is real affection for the 

 one who has won their baby affections and 

 stands in the place of mother and teacher. 

 When I feel I can''t have them around I have 

 tried to drive them away; Init it seems al- 

 most hopeless to try to convince them that / 

 do not love them as devotedly as they love 

 VIC. The watering-pot seems to be the best 

 weapon, and it is truly laiighable to witness 

 their consternation and pi-otests when I give 

 them a gentle showering to make them go 

 home. 



There is one fine large chick that seems to 

 be a sort of leader. When hrst hatched he 

 was remarkably large and of a golden yel- 

 low color; in fact, he seemed a ffuffy ball of 

 the softest and finest down. Well, he and I 

 were always pai'ticular "chums." I told 

 him over and over again he would get step- 

 ped on, but he just bubbled over with fun 

 about it, apparently, until one day when the 

 wind was rather strong and cool I went to 

 fetch a cloth-covered frame used over the 

 greenhouse, to set up as a windbreak for the 

 chicks. All at once I felt my foot on some- 

 thing soft, and, oh dear me! it ivas my pet 

 chicken. His merriment had all stopped, or, 

 rather, changed to a pitiful peep, while he 

 slowly crawled along with his newly feath- 

 ered pearly little wings dragging on the 

 ground. I cuddled him up in my hands and 

 tried to tell him how sorry 1 was, and it al- 

 most made me cry to hear him try to give 

 me his accustomed "Cheep, cheep," of friend- 

 ship. He moped about all day, but wouldn't 

 eat or notice any thing; and when I put him 



in with the I'est at night, I fully expected to 

 find him dead in the morning. I remember 

 wondering if it would be wicked to pray that 

 God might spare the life of a chicken. The 

 next mf)rning he was better, but he didn't 

 eat any until about noon; but by night he 

 seemed his old self again; in fact, he was so 

 full of "frolic" he didn't seem to want to 

 go to bed at all. After I had put him in his 

 box the third time, and it was getting pretty 

 dark, 1 heard his well-known "Cheep, cheep, 

 cheep," at the doorstep, and / understood 

 by it he meant, "Say! aren't you glad 1 ain't 

 gone dead?" and I replied as I held him up 

 against my cheek, "Yes, darling, I am ex- 

 ceedingly glad, and I thank God that you are 

 alive and well once more in spite of my care- 

 lessness." 



WILD ANIMALS ON THE ISLAND. 



Just once we found coon-tracks in the neigh- 

 l>orhood, and for fear they might get through 

 the poultry-netting and raid my chickens I 

 told Mr. Shumard I would offer a premium of 

 $1.00 for a coon dead or alive. Accordingly 

 he set his traps and soon had Jive dead coons, 

 and now there are no more coon-tracks. With 

 a sharp hatchet and a cedar block I chopped 

 them up, bones and all, for the chickens. 

 W^ell, ever since then if I chop on that l)lock 

 with the hatchet, the chickens, far and near, 

 come rushing in on the double quick. When 

 the dinner-bell rings at Mr. Shumard's, where 

 I board, it is the signal for the little chaps, 

 and they push ahead into the dining-room if 

 the door is not closed quickly. Not only are 

 their sight and hearing wonderfully acute, 

 but they learn tricks and every thing else, 

 when less than a week old, with a readiness 

 that is almost startling. The bal^y chicks 

 drink from an inverted bottle that holds, may 

 1)6, a pint. As soon as they saw a similar ap- 

 paratus in the big yard, that holds about a 

 gallon, they took in what it was for, and rush- 

 ed up to it to get a drink. Was not that al- 

 most reasoning? 



MOONLIC4HT NIGHTS IN FLORIDA. 



I have heard it said that, the nearer you 

 approach the equator, the brighter are all the 

 starry constellations of heaven. Well, along 

 the latter part of January we had some very 

 bright moonlight nights. I noticed I could 

 read fair-sized print vei'y easily. At just half- 

 past one, one night, I was surprised to hear 

 sounds among the poultry. It didn't seem 

 like sounds of alarm, and you can imagine 

 my surprise when I heard the rooster calling 

 the hens with his usual "Cut, cut, cut." Sure 

 enough, there he was, calling them to get 

 some corn left over when I fed them the night 

 before, and one of the pullets was singing as 

 merrily as if it were daytime. As nearly as 

 I can make out, the rooster stayed up until 

 morning; but the "females," doubtless recog- 

 nizing they had made a blunder, discreetly 

 climbed back again to their accustomed perch 

 in the cedar- tree. Has any one ever before 

 seen the chickens fooled by moonlight? 



Dear reader, has it occurred to you while 

 reading my long chicken-story, if, indeed, you 

 have had the patience to take it all in, that 



