The Indianapolis sentinel. [volume] (Indianapolis, Ind.) 1880-1904, 1885-05-03
A Large Family.

IS- Nicholas
"The yellow Italian bees are gentler thu
the brown wild bees; and 1t is said that the
Italian bee has longer proboscs, and so
can get honey from the red clover, which is
so abundant hereabout 1 thought they
were better, for, when was very poor man,
l bought an Italian queen bee in the big city
Of New York, and paid twenty dollars for
her, and / have never yet repented OF my
extravsesnce. / have now sixty.nine hives
OF pure Italian bees, and they are all the de-
scencants OF my pretty queen. Allowing
forty thousand bees to a swarm which is
moderate number, it is not q bad showing
for her majesty. Let me see. forty thousand
by sixty-pine makes-well, at least two aud
half millions of living descendants, besides
their descendants; these, added to the null
titudes that have lived and died in the mean
time, must make, all together, not far from
two hundred millions in twelve years."
He Isn't Getting Wicked Inside, Is Hep
One spring day gentleman swoke from q
long, heavy sleep; aud turning on the sofa
where he was stretched, he glanced into an
adjoining room. There was pretty picture.
and being an artist, John Clay ton could well
appreciate it. The afternoon sunshine filled
the room with rare light, bringing out the
rich colors OF the tapestry, the quaint form OF
old furniture, and the beauties of statuettes,
vases, and all kinds of curious and costly
objects accumulated there. But the room
only framed the picture. In plain view from
the sofa " here the artist had been sleeping
were his two children, Claud and Fanny.
The boy. who had inherited his fathers tai
eDt, had supplied himself with paint, palette
and brushes. He had easily induced his ami
able little sister to stand near by his easel
where he could gravelv study her sweet face
and tangled, golden curls. As he studied
q nerIr m ~ IN
portray her face and figure on panel before
him.
lam doing your dress now. Fan" be
exclaimed, AND you may talk If you want to
while work"
Wasn't mamma q beauty when papa
painted that picture of her over there?"
She is beauty now" replied Claude,
''if she doesn't curl her hair and dress in
white"
Eyes, she is Just as good as she can be; bat
she doesn't look IS joyful as that picture.
Anyway, Claude, papa is,'t so handsome as
he was when his picture Was painted, is ne?"
No" said Claude, reluctantly.
But papa Is happy" continued Fanny.
"for he laughs so much. Oh how he did
laugh yesterday in here when those gentle.
men came to see him and they made lemon
ade. Why would not mamma let Us come
in and have some"
ut was vine: and am never going to
drink vine, and you must not drink il,
elmer"
Why not?'
She Will tell you sometime
Claude, Go you know mamma says ev.
erybsdy paints portrait OF himself or her.
eeli2'
well. some people would make dreadful
work of IT," said Claude lightly.
They do, she says II is funny talz We
had one day. She said We were born with
faces like blank canvas. and as we grew our
own thoughts were the little pencils aud
brushes thst work away. making our features
kind, the goodness at last came through aud
stamped itself on our faces. IL people grow
wicked, they don't stay beautiful great
while"
SWELL sis, l guess you must be pretty
good inside" laughed Claude, .for your nose
and mouth are not at all wicked yet. and
your skin is lovely"
"B1t that day told wrong story, my
eyes looked muddy, mamma said"
Yes, they did, because, you see, you were
ashamed to look up and let the light shine
in them"
The listener on the sofa was being enter.
tanned by this chatter when Fanny in an
wrong stories, but his eyes get real
muddy and he does not look handsome at
all some day; his face gets very, very red.
He isn't getting wicked inside. is her.
I'VE must not talk-that-way," stam-
mered Claude, and John Clayton saw the
sensitive face flush and grew very sober.
papa says he il sick those days." he added,
ing. A moment later he came down from
his stool, saying II won't paint any more to.
day let us 60 and play in the garden"
When their bright faces vanished from the
studio John Clayton entered. and crossing
the room. stood who're On one hand he could