1878. 



GLEANINGS IN BEE CULTURE. 



:o?, 



were the greetings as I closed the school, 

 hut none of them thought best to go with 

 uie. I crossed the l)iidge, went u]) the hill, 

 iind came into the little town. Familiar fa- 

 ces smiled at me from the windows, for I 

 liad met them every Sabbath for the last 

 two years ; but I felt guilty and ashamed, 

 when I remembered that I had never before 

 met them in their own homes. It was so 

 new a thing to see me outside of the school 

 house, that they looked at me in surprise. 

 May God, in reality, bless their homes, as 

 tlieir little lii)s have so often prayed in the 

 school. I passed Simon's house ; it is a sad 

 looking place indeed. I inquired for the 

 brewery. Down a by-street, up a lane, and 

 out of sight under tfie hill, I found an old 

 dilapidated looking building. Up the steps 

 I walked, and opened a door into a ])art 

 where I heard many voices, and the clink- 

 ing of glasses. Ah yes ! here were the 

 scholars I had missed, and as I took them 

 kindly by the hand, I felt that, ])erhaps, I 

 had more need to feel ashamed than they. 

 In the center of the room, sat a person who 

 seemed to be the leader of the liand. I 

 could not, at first, see his face, but I very 

 soon found that it was Simon. I had known 

 him a few years ago. l)ut now his face was 

 so changed', so bloated and red, and his eyes 

 so glassy, that I hardly recognized him. 

 The dislike I had felt to entering such a 

 l>lace, and such a crowd, had all gone ; I was 

 not even in the least embarrassed. I felt 

 that God was with me. and that it was my 

 right, and my duty, to admonish that it was 

 the Sal)bath day." I talked to them i)leas- 

 antly, and poor Simon, even there, while 

 under the intluence of the beer, told how he 

 had gone down, and down. ;ind he had lost 

 all hope. He admitted that beer was killing 

 him. and ai)])ealed to some of his comrades, 

 who were attempting a defence of it, if it 

 were not so, that he ought not to drink it. 

 Not one wa's there, but said it was killing 

 him, and then he almost piteously asked 

 them why they had so olten urged him to 

 drink, and asked why they could not let him 

 remniii a sober man. I "saw a thin, slim 

 looking, young man sli]) out of tlie room as 

 we were talking, and when I asked for the 

 brewer, Simon called him, but he only moved 

 farther away; finally, as we went into an- 

 other apartment after him, he tried to'get 

 away by going clear out of doors, l)ut Simon 

 pulled him back, and I talked to him. It 

 was not very much money he was making 

 in his business of jHjisoning his fellows, as 

 lie admitted the beer was i)oison to Simon. 

 and his wretched hovel seemed but ])oor pay 

 in the barter for human souls. As I talked 

 to him of a l)etter way of living, he, too. 

 showed that better feelings lurked hidden in 

 his human heart. As I turned to go away, 

 many were the ''God l>less yous," and 

 Simon plead ]>iteously to be rescued from 

 tlie abyss that opened before him. lie 

 promised to sign a pledge if I had one, and j 

 then he said it woiild be of no use so long as j 

 he staid there among his old associates. 

 Even while he was talking, they i)assed tlie 

 beer to him again, with the strange ])ervers- 

 ity of humanity, but he told them, that with 

 (iod's help, he was going to be a man yet. 



if he could. He plead that I would not 

 leave liim, and begged to have even a hum- 

 ble place in my employ, that he might be out 

 of the way of temptation, and get encour- 

 agement from the reformed boys he knew I 

 had already. 



Is there any question of opinion, in regard 

 to the work 1 have just mentioned? if you 

 were to visit the Sabbath school, you might 

 question our ways of doing things, but if the 

 whole end and aim of the work was to do 

 good, and if good followed, tliere could not 

 be any great difference of oi)inion. Why 

 not have the Home department in some oth- 

 er paper? I have no intluence and weight in 

 another paper as I have here, and I am not 

 acquainted. If a man belieres in Christian- 

 ity, the world says over and over again, he 

 should sliow it in his daily life. These pages 

 are my daily life. Besides bee keepers are 

 quarrelsome ; I am quan-elsome (I am jiret- 

 ty sure some of you think there is no nted 

 of my telling it) and with the large amount 

 of traffic that is growing u]) among us, there 

 are a great many chances for misunder- 

 standings, and disputes. A great many 

 abusive and unkind letters are written. 

 They are not always written to me, but they 

 are very often sent to me, to have me help 

 heal up some disagreement. The Home 

 Papers have mixed themselves all througji 

 and through the business nuittersof bee cul- 

 ture. They have checked me over and over 

 again, and I have multitudes of letters tell- 

 ing me how they have checked those to 

 whom the journal is sent, just in the nick of 

 time, as it were. 



It is true, my work is poorly, and many 

 times awkwardly done, butnotwithstiUiding 

 all that, more cheering words have reached 

 me for this department of Gleanings, thfui 

 for all the rest together, and it is, I believe, 

 generally liked ns a bee i)ai)er: were it not 

 so, its circulation would not be so steadily 

 on the increase. There is one point iii 

 which I feel myself lacking, where I think I 

 might get help from all of you. I will illus- 

 trate it. 



Cases of intoxication have been so fre- 

 (luent on our streets of late, that our i)eople 

 have chosen a v^ommittee, who have promis- 

 ed to faithfully prosecute, by law, all ctises 

 that come under their notice. The marshal 

 attends to this business, it is true, but it has 

 been said, and I am afraid witli much truth, 

 that it is only poor lost boys who are taken 

 to jail, and that men of some standing are 

 passed by. Be this as it iiiay, I am one of 

 that committee, and just now, a man Avith 

 quite a resiiectiible family is reported, and 

 tliere is hardly a question but tliat he slK)uld 

 go to jail. Now I do not want to be instru- 

 mental in sending one of my fellow citizens 

 to jail, without going to liim in a friendlv 

 way about it first. Ji I go, I sliall fail in mv 

 object, in one of two ways ; at least I fe.ir t 

 shall. I can go to hinrand tell him what I 

 think of his conduct, and i)erhaps make him 

 a l)itter enemy forever, or I can so soften it, 

 tliat lie will lilead and make promises that 

 will induce me to give way. and not bring 

 him to justice at all. I have not the faculty 

 of combining Ih-niness and kindness. It 

 looks as if my task, just at present, is to 



