When a boy at school in the town of G——I became acquainted with old Deacon Hubbard and his wife—two as good Christian people as could be found, simple in their manners and kind-hearted. The deacon was ‘well to do in the world,’ having a fine farm, a pleasant house, and, with his quiet way of living, apparently everything to make him comfortable.
He took great delight in raising bees, and the product of his hives was every year some hundreds of pounds of honey, for which there was always a ready market, though he frequently gave away large quantities among his neighbors.
One Sunday morning, when passing the place of Deacon Hubbard on my way to meeting, I saw the deacon in his orchard near his house, apparently in great trouble about something in one of his apple trees. I crossed the road to the fence and called to him, and asked him what was the matter. He was a very conscientious man, and would not do anything on the Lord’s day that could be done on any other; but he cried, ’Oh, dear! my bees are swarming, and I shall surely lose them. If I was a young man I could climb the tree and save them, but I am too old for that.’ I jumped over the fence, and as I approached him he pointed to a large dark mass of something suspended from the limb of an apple tree, which to me was a singular-looking object, never having before seen bees in swarming time. I had great curiosity to see the operation of hiving, and suggested that perhaps I could help him, though at the time afraid the bees would sting me for my trouble. The gratification to be derived I thought would repay the risk, and calling to mind some lines I had heard,—
’Softly, gently touch a nettle,
It will sting thee for thy
pains;
Grasp it like a man of mettle,
Soft and harmless it remains,—’
I told him that I would assist him. He assured me that if I could only get a rope around the limb above and fasten it to the one on which the bees were, then saw off that limb and lower it down, he could secure them without much trouble.
With saw and rope in hand I ascended the tree, and, after due preparation, severed the limb and carefully lowered it within the deacon’s reach. I was surprised, and felt repaid for my trouble, to see with what ease and unconcern Dea. Hubbard, with his bare hands, scooped and brushed the swarm of bees into a sheet he had prepared, and how readily he got them into a vacant hive. Many thanks did the deacon proffer me for my timely assistance, and moreover insisted on my staying with him to dine. It seemed to me that I was never in a more comfortable house, and I am sure I never received a more cordial greeting than that bestowed upon me by his venerable spouse.
The place where I boarded with several other boys was with a widow lady by the name of White, who was very kind to me, but who had the


