"Well, to-night, after sundown, take the blocks from the entrance and let them fly around in the morning. You may lose a colony or two until you learn how to handle them, but you needn't worry; they're good breeders and will soon make up for that--but be sure and keep the hives cool in hot weather, then they won't swarm so quickly." When they got back to the house all the new cattle and other stock had been put away, and the men were ready to return home. That night before setting the new chickens at liberty, Bob caught and killed the two remaining Dunghill roosters. It was a tired but happy family that went to bed at ten o'clock that night, instead of the regular hour of nine. It seemed to Bob that he had just closed his eyes when bedlam broke loose. His first thought was of the new stock, then of the dynamite, but as he sat up in bed he realized it could not be either of them-- so, throwing up his window, he looked out. In the moonlight he could distinguish many of their neighbors, who were armed with everything from sleigh bells to horse fiddles, and the racket they made in the stillness of the night seemed greater than any noise he had ever heard. As he raised his window, a shout went up, the neighbors thinking it was Bob's uncle, but seeing their mistake they redoubled their efforts and kept the racket going for a half hour or more. Then his aunt and uncle appeared, and invited the party into the house, where the lamps were already lighted. Congratulations were extended, a hasty lunch was set out, the cider barrel tapped and a general good time enjoyed for an hour or more. Many of the boys had been former pupils of the bride and they were happy that she had chosen to come and live among them. Joe Williams disappeared for a moment and when he returned he carried a large bottle of wine with a long blue ribbon tied to it. "Boys," he said, when the cheering had stopped, "you all know that with the exception of cider, I never drink anything." "Oh, don't let that worry you, Joe, we're not so modest," they shouted, but he only held up his hand for silence. "This bottle of wine was given to us by a very good friend for a certain purpose. We had intended to wait until later to use it, but I don't know any better time than just now, when our friends are all here to carry out our plans, so come out into the yard a moment," and they all adjourned to the front yard. Here Joe Williams and his bride stepped over to a young apple tree and handing her the bottle, he tied the ribbon to a limb. "Now, boys, Bettie and I've decided to give our farm a name and sell our produce under that name--a sort of a trade-mark or standard of merit, so now while you're all here, we'll perform the ceremony."