23 



still hanging on the twigs, and even the birds do not seem to 

 care for them. I broke off one of these twigs (Fig. 21). Let 

 us see how many apples this curious twig has borne. We can 

 tell by the square-cut scars. An apple was once borne at i, 

 another at 2, another at 4, another at 5, another at 6, and 

 another at 7, — and at 7 there will be a scar when the apple falls. 

 Six apples this modest shoot has borne ! And I wonder how 

 many of them got ripe, or how many were taken by the worms, 

 or how many were eaten by the little boys and girls on their 

 way to school ! 



A curious thing happened when the fruit was growing at 2. 

 Two side buds started out, instead of one, and both of them grew 

 the next year. But one of the little branchlets fell sick and died, 

 or a bug nipped off its end, or it starved to death ; and the grave 

 is still marked by the little stick standing up at 3. The other 

 branchlet thrived, and eventually bore apples at 4, 5, 6 and 7. 



I have said that these fruit-spurs bear only every other year ; 

 then, if this branch has borne six apples, it must be twelve 



7 

 Fig. 21. — A fruit-spur ivhich has borne six apples. Half size. 



years old. The truth is that it is about twenty years old, for 

 some years it failed to bear; but the age cannot be traced out 

 in the picture, although any little boy or girl with bright eyes 

 could soon learn to trace out yearly rings on the shoot itself. 



IV. 



The last shoot which I got that day has a whole volume of 

 history in it, and I cannot begin to tell its story unless I should 



