The true northerner. [volume] (Paw Paw, Mich.) 1855-1920, 1875-09-03

off; but that isn't the way it did. Silas,
the elder, was very comfortably bundled
up for so warm day, and he had his
suit well arranged, only he forgot to tie
strings around the bottoms of his pants
legs.
The bees had settled on the limbs of
peach tree, and Silas, when table and
white cloth and hive were all ready,
commanded
Snow, George, grab that old rusty
saw and climb; guess you can cut that
small limb off easy enough"
George was Just home from n six
months term of school, and he felt
great tenderness for his father, and
would have gone through patch of
thistles barefoot to please the old gent,
and yet he had particular dread for
the "business end" of bee, and par
ticularly of such crowd of them. But
he obeyed, and began to fiddle away
cautiously upon the particular limb.
One little bunch of bees dropped off and
were Gagged; another, and another small
bunch dropped, and the prospect
seemed good, when suddenly an old
ey-maker, who had been in the bust
ness before, scared upward. George
shut up one eye quick, gave one terrific
surge on the old rusty saw, got out of
that tree at one jump, and his anxious
mother caught one glimpse of him as he
flew around the corner of the barn
twenty rods away.
But poor old Silas! The bees came
down, and he thought the bunch as big
as a haystack now. They did not go
into the hive, but they went through
his overcoat and bedquilt as if these had
been only mosquito bars, and they
climbed up the inside of his pants legs, and
the old gent danced as he never danced
before; and he slapped his legs as he
never allowed anyone else to slap them,
and his voice lowered high above the
clatter of the tin pans and the shrieks of
little Silas as he yelled:
"Throw water on me throw water on
me soak me, wet me down
! He rolled three or four times over in
/ the grass, and sprang up, shouting,
"Slap me! slap me- Can't you slap
me z" il the midst of which little Silas
crept up behind his Infatuated papa and
dealt him a lively one with a single;
! but poor little Silas landed the next
second against the milk house, for his
pa took him and his shingle for a thou
sand bees, and gently brushed them off.
O, the agony of that three minutes
| jig He appealed to his wife.
" Matilda, for heavens sake, bring me
another pair of breeches, won't you !"
But these things don't last always,
any more than any other happiness, and
after few minutes the old gent came
Tipping out OF the cellar with the breeches
on that Matilda brought him, feeling
much easier, but certainly much fatigued
just as George got back from the barn
and the boy with the queer name slipped
around the corner of the house. Both
boys were very anXions to know how
matters stood, aud asked:
odd you git EN- hived, pa!
But the old man was too mad to an
swer or even look at his boys. HI
turned TO little Silas and said
Little one, you meant all right, anC
I'm sorry cuffed you so; next time don
slap so hard
Then to his wife, Matilda, to you
owe everything. Accept my heartfelt
gratitude. Well take no more stock il
bees. have made up my mind, and it
settled. May our quiet, peaceful farm
house never be so stirred up again
Seems to me 1 never had so much of lif
crowded into few short minutes be
fore. Run after the COWS now, boys; b
off, for it is almost dark. "-I0led
Blade.