The Cambria freeman. [volume] (Ebensburg, Pa.) 1867-1938, 1894-07-27
MISS 3ELINDA'S BEES.
How They Assisted the Little God
of Love.

of Love.
When the city visitors who swarmed
around Maple Center and registered
their names by the score in the books
of the village hotel stroIled out on the
Maple road they always stopped at the
Hubble farmhouse and cried: How eX-
quisite! How picturesque!" And, for
;he life of her, Miss belinda Bubble
did not know why.
''It amt as if l could afford a coat of
paint TO the old house." said she. Its
just a slate brown, with winter storms
and summer suns; and the grape ar
bor's all a-Lumbiiu' down for lack of II
brace or two of solid timber; and the
we'll sweep amt half as convenient as
Mrs Ciaghorn's new chain pump, no
way you can tiX it; and the stun walls
all overGrowcd with them pesky run
min vines and briers. To be sure the
four o'cloclis and mOrnin' glorieS are
sort o pretty by the fence, and there
amt no prettier hollyhOcIIs in the
country than them darl1-red and cherry
colored ones jest this side of the pear
tree. As for the beehives, l always did
like beehives, even if it wasn't foi. the
honey. My mother set heap o. store
stool, nine of 'em in row, ever since
l can remember. And there amt no
honey in all the county as has got the
flavor of ourn. | don't know whether
it's Squire Carbuncle's buckwheat field
or that there clover medder of Mr. Dar-
nells as does it But you can fairly
taste the sunshine and the flowers
in it!''
And it was a genuine sight at swarm
ing-time, when Miss Belinda issued
forth into the black and booming
clouds, all gloved and yelled and tied
up in a mosquito netting, with tin
pan and skinner in her hand.
Il ginerally have first rate good luck
with the swarms," said Belinda II
don't know when I've lost one, if only
folks would let me alone. But it's
the meddlin' people that come to offer
their help that upsets me and the bees
Squire Car5uncle, now he's real sensi-
BILE. He don't never come round inter
fcrin' If he sees the bees maxim up
their minds to swarm he jest gets up
off his garden chaT and goes into the
house. For bees, they're dreadful SEN
sible. They have their likes and their
dislilles, jest as human creeturs have
and they never could get along with
Squire Carbuncle!'
squire Carbuncie was quiet, grizzle-
headed man of fifty, who farmed a
model farm. with all the new ma
chinery patents liberally oiled with
gold. read the agricultural papers, and
was always Just going to" write an
article for the Gentleman Farmer.
Miss Bubble herself was not much
younger. She supported herself in a
lyry- = lin fac
tory in the neighborhood.
Il s'pose" said Miss Bubble. Squire
Carbuncle IL get married some day. and
| do ho' he'll choose a sociable wife
| that | can take comfort with, eXchang-
ing patterns and chatti ng of an even
ing over the garden fen ce-"
"Belinda Bubble is \ sensible wom-
| an, said Squire Carbuucle. in his deep,
sonorous voice ITO my certain know
| ledge. she has refused one two
! shi tless fellows who wanted to marry
| her merely to be supported She's a
| good deal better oil single than mar
| ried."
Miss Belinda never said word when
| Squire Carbuncle's superb liver-colored
| setter killed her favorite MuscOvy duck
| and the squire, on hIs part, condOned
| the sf,nse, when Miss bubbles elk
| ems scratched up all his early lettuce
| and made havoc with his seeding pan
| sizes and pinks.
| 'Neighbors orter be neighborly,"
said Miss Belinda And dogs nature
is dogs nature!''
! Il must stop up the cracks under the
! fence" said the squire. ''Of course,
| Belinda can't help her chickens getting
| through! No woman could"
Thus matters were. when Miss Be
| linda's cousin, Fannie Halkett, came
! To visit her-a plump, peach-cheelied
I young woman who was cashier at
| glove-store in the city.
Cousin Bubble" said Fannie, why
| don't you marry Squire Carbuncle?'
La, Fanuie!" cried the elderly dam
| sci. starting back SO suddenly, that she
stepped oa one of the velvet-white
paws of the pet kitten.
Yes, truly, why don't you?" said
| Fannie ''IIe needs q wife and 1t
| would be very nice for you to have
husband. Now wouldn't it,"
Go long" said Miss Belinda 81
| never thought of such thing! Nor
him neither. Go out, Fannie, and pick
a mess o. white Antwerp raspberries
for tea and don't let me hear no more
! such nonsense
"NonsenseI' echoed Fannie, laugh
| ing as she went off with a blue-edged
| bowl in her hand But L think 1t
| isn't nonsense at alli'
And among the Antwerp raspberry
| vines she talked the matter over with
Juiian'Hall, Squire Carbuncle's nephew,
who had come to the farm for a week :
trout fishing, and who had developed
very strong propensity for reading
novels under the old pear-tree that
| overshadowed Miss Bubbles garden
| fence.
Wouldn't it be nice?" said Fannie.
| 'Splendidr' Julian answered, lean
ing over to put a handful of raspberries