Il6 THE BLESSED BEES. 



waiting hives. I walked slowly along the rows of 

 hives and touched them with caressing hand. I put 

 down my ear to catch in its fullness, their deep con- 

 tented roar. I sat down in my favorite seat under 

 a spreading apple-tree, where during the last five 

 months I had so often sat by day and by night, to 

 have silent converse with my speechless friends. 

 All around me, in the dim shadows of the orchard, 

 were the hives ; beyond rose the dark masses of the 

 maple forest ; above shone the silent stars. The 

 months had gone by full of labor, of care, of self- 

 denial, but most rich in experiences, precious to me 

 especially in their lessons of labor and independ- 

 ence. A glad feeling of gratitude welled from my 

 heart to Him whose laws made flowers and bees, 

 and through whose mysterious leadings I had come 

 to this happy work. Surely from Him had come 

 benedictions upon my blessed bees. 



I sat under the tree or walked among the hives 

 until twelve o'clock. Before going to my room I 

 looked again at my thermometer. It stood at 29 F. 

 Already the delicate frost was forming its crystals 

 all over the country. I went to bed with a feeling 

 of release from absorbing care. The five months 

 just passed had been given to constant and laborious 

 attention to the bees. Now the crisis of my work 

 was passed. It only remained to store the honey 



