tion was by no means at a standstill, although he was
working hard to earn his own living.

"During the evenings, he would gather us about him, and illustrate some
mathematical problem, or, giving us a dissertation upon natural
science, would expound the laws of gravitation, etc.

"In the daytime, when not fishing or bee hunting, he would work in the
fields with father and brother Barnes. There was excellent trout
fishing, I remember, in the brooks; and that, with bee hunting and
watching the forest fires, was his only amusement; for shooting was a
pastime in which he never indulged."

"I thought," said Marguerite, "that boys in the country were always
fond of shooting."

"As a rule they are," replied mamma; "but your uncle was not. His
delicate, sensitive nature was always shocked by the sharp report of a
gun. I remember that when we were in Vermont he and brother Barnes
would go out together to hunt squirrels, Barnes carrying the gun; and
that when the game was found, brother Horace would cover his ears with
his hands, to soften the noise of the discharge.

"I suppose, my dears, that you do not know how hunters find wild honey?"

We knew little of wild honey save that John the Baptist used to eat it,
so mamma continued:

"The bees, having no hives provided for them, made their honey in the
hollow trunks of trees; and as it was one of the luxuries of our table,
it was quite important to trace out their hiding-places. Brother
Barnes would go out with a little box of syrup or honey, and when he
found a bee upon a flower would imprison it in the box, detaining it
there until it had had time to load itself with sweetness. When it was
released, it would make a 'bee line' for its home in the tree; never
pausing by the way, even for the sweetest flowers. Barnes would note
the direction it had taken, and follow it as well as he could; but
often he would be obliged to capture several bees, and sometimes pass
days in the pursuit, before he would be rewarded by hearing in some
tree a buzzing that could almost be called roaring. The next step was
to fell the tree, which would cause the bees to quickly disperse; not,
however, without stinging the intruder; but the result compensated for
a sting or two, for it was not unusual for Barnes to find from twenty
to thirty pounds in a tree, often, however, so mixed with the soft wood
that we were obliged to strain it before it was fit to put upon the
table."

"You spoke of