board, when Gramp clapped the empty hive over
them, and the swarm was hived; for during the day the bees went up from
the bough into the top of the hive, and that evening it was gently
removed to a place in the row of hives at the bee-house.

This was an early swarm, hence valuable. Gram repeated to us a proverb
in rhyme which set forth the relative values of swarms.

"A swarm in May is worth a load of hay.
A swarm in June is worth a silver spoon,
But a swarm in July is not worth a fly."

July swarms would not have time to lay up a store of honey during the
season of flowers.

Between bees and neighbors the forenoon was far advanced before we
reached the field and began bean-planting. Quite enough of it remained,
however, to render me certain that farm work, in summer, is far from
being a pastime. We planted the beans among the corn which had been
planted two weeks previously and was now a finger's length above the
ground. The corn hills were three feet and a half apart, and between the
hills of every row we now inserted a hill of beans. Halstead and I
dropped the seed, three beans to a hill, going a few steps in advance of
Addison and the old Squire, who followed us with hoes and covered the
beans. The process of dropping was very simple; we had only to make an
imprint in the soft earth with the right heel, and then drop three beans
in the hole. Yet with the sun hot above my head, I found it a sweaty
task, and was but too glad to hear Ellen blow the horn for dinner.

Bean-planting was the business again after dinner, but dark clouds rose
in the west, shortly before three o'clock, and soon the first
thunder-shower of the season rose, rumbling upward over the White
Mountains. We were compelled to run for the barn. Gramp improved the
opportunity to sharpen the sheep-shears, and as soon as the shower
abated, sent Halstead off to notify a man at the Corners, named Peter
Glinds, a professional shearer, that his services would be required on
the following day. "Old Peter," as he was called, had made shearing
sheep his spring vocation for many years; he was a very tall, lean,
yellow old man, who was reported to use a plug of tobacco a day, the
year round.

Addison set about preparing a half-hogshead tub to hold the poke
decoction for immersing the lambs after the sheep were sheared.

But singeing off caterpillars' nests in the orchard was my work for the
remainder of that afternoon and the following forenoo