As a caution to my brother bee-keepers, I will say: Don't climb unless
you are sure of your footing. On the 26th of last May, I was called
on to hive a swarm of bees that had settled high up in an apple tree.
Having been a great climber from childhood's days, I bounded up to the
top of the tree, and sawed off the limb containing the swarm while I
stood on a limb below. The additional weight of the bees and limb split
off the one on which I stood, and down came Smith, bees and all—a
distance of 22 feet. That it did not kill me I am humbly thankful to
Him who holds us in the hollow of his hand. For nearly two days I was
partly paralyzed, and was finally relieved by the application of an
electric battery, and other means applied by two eminent physicians who
were unremitting in their attentions day and night.
Do we sufficiently appreciate the arduous labors of those men of
science, working day and night with both mind and body, taxing every
energy, and enlisting every sympathy of their being? Is it wonderful
that they wear out, break down, and die suddenly? Whenever I think
of those terrible hours of suffering, when my digestive system was
completely paralyzed, and my life was wavering in the balance, my heart
goes out in thanksgiving to a merciful Providence, and I treasure the
faithful ministrations of my physicians and friends.