MAY APPLES AND MULBERRIES. 125 



somewhat akin to that of some varieties of pine- 

 apple. It should have been called July apple 

 instead of May apple, for in this latitude the 

 fruit never reaches that rich golden hue which 

 betokens a perfect ripeness until the July sun 

 has shed its beams athwart it. When I am 

 really hungry and thirsty, I can eat a dozen of 

 them without stopping, but usually one or two 

 suffice to satisfy. 



The season of the wild mulberry has, too, just 

 been completed, and scores of them have, since 

 June 20th, colored a deeper hue my oesophagus. 

 When one happens upon a mulberry tree, where 

 the big, black, juicy fruit hangs pendent from 

 the lower side of every twig, he has hit upon one 

 of the true treasures of a summer's outing. The 

 red-headed woodpecker, connoisseur as he is of 

 ripe cherries, June apples and other fruit, will 

 forsake them all when the mulberry begins to 

 ripen. From one to a dozen of the birds can 

 then be seen at all times of the day, winging 

 their way to and from the fruit tree to some 

 snag or dead topped maple, where they have 

 their nest or aery. Far richer in flavor is the 



