186 MINNESOTA STATE HORTICULTURAL SOCIETY. 



A few years later Peter Gideon attended a meeting of the 

 Northern Horticultural Society of Iowa at Hampton; that was 

 the winter of 1885, about. I could not be sure of the date with- 

 out consulting the reports. On the way over to the train I 

 picked out Mr. Gideon from having seen his picture and got into 

 conversation with him at the depot. I tell this so you will under- 

 stand some of the circumstances that followed. At the depot 

 where we got off the train at Hampton there was snow on the 

 platform, ice and snow from the platform down to the rail track. 

 Mr. Gideon missed his big buckskin mittens after he got off the 

 train and got back on the car to get them. He had to hurry and 

 the train started before he stepped off, and as he stepped off onto 

 the platform, being somewhat old then, the platform took his 

 feet from under him, and he started to roll under the train. I 

 was young and active, and I reached down with both hands, got 

 hold of his overcoat and pulled him back safely out of reach of 

 the wheels. 



Afterwards, realizing the danger he had been in and his 

 narrow escape, he seemed to attach himself to me, and we were 

 together most of the three days of the meeting. We took a room 

 together at the hotel and lying in beds that were close together 

 we talked most all night. You know, I realized the importance 

 of Peter Gideon's work, and I was glad to talk with a man who 

 had done as great a work as Peter Gideon had in giving us the 

 Wealthy apple. 



It was a wonderful thing for me to talk to Peter Gideon, 

 just as it should be a wonderful thing for us to talk with any of 

 these men who wear the bronze buttons. In a few years we 

 won't have the chance any more. During the course of our con- 

 sersation I asked Mr. Gideon about the origin of the Wealthy. 

 "Well," he said, "I will tell you the real story of that." He 

 said: "I haven't told people right about that." I asked him 

 why, and he said it was none of their business anyway. So he 

 told me this story: 



His wife's father, Mr. Hall, lived in Illinois and planted an 

 orchard entirely of Rambo apples, nothing else in the orchard. 

 Then a few of the trees died, and he planted a large red crab 

 apple, presumably the Hyslop. Many of us know the Rambo 

 apple, and I think we all know the Hyslop crab. When these 

 crabs got to bearing and the Rambo also were bearing, Mr. Hall 

 sent a small box — I think it was a small chalk box — filled with 



