I38 THE BLESSED BEES. 



It was four o'clock when the work was done. 

 The agent locked the car. In a few minutes the 

 freight-train left, and I saw the harvest into which 

 had gone so much of thought and labor from my- 

 self, so much of labor and instinct from my friends, 

 the bees, recede from the station towards the far- 

 distant market in the great city. Soon the train 

 passed from sight around a curve. I started for 

 home at a somewhat rapid gait, the line of empty 

 wagons making a noisy but merry rattling over the 

 hard road. Mother had engaged to have supper for 

 us at half-past six. Before that hour we were on 

 hand. A meal had been prepared to which the 

 hungry farmers devoted themselves with silent as- 

 siduity for a quarter of an hour. Then each received 

 his pay, three dollars and a half, and went home. 



It had been a hard day's work. For me a day of 

 suppressed but intense excitement. When the men 

 were gone I sat down in the easy chair before the 

 great fire-place in mother's room. Will and Lucy 

 soon joined me, and mother came in when she had 

 attended to the evening work. Something of my 

 deep interest had communicated itself to them. 

 They said nothing of the honey nor of the summer's 

 work, but I knew that their thoughts often went 

 with mine to the laden car in the east-bound train, 

 and that with me they not unfrequently dwelt upon 

 our work in the future. We played some games. 



