XLII 



THE BUTCHER BIRD 



A LITTLE less than a quarter of a mile from the old 

 farm house on the east edge of our farm stood one of 

 the first three orchards set out in that part of Iowa. Most 

 of the trees had originally been seedlings, but father, with 

 the skill of most pioneers, had top-grafted them and many 

 of them were as large as forest trees and bore apples as 

 good as could be found anywhere. The field where the 

 orchard grew was usually planted to corn, even the or- 

 chard being cultivated as tho no apples were there. This 

 field had an osage orange hedge on all sides, but on the 

 north there were occasional holes where the cattle were 

 wont to break through. To prevent this two or three 

 strands of barbed wire had been stretched through the 

 hedge. 



In apple time sister and I were often given two sacks 

 and sent to this orchard for a load of apples. This was 

 always a delight, for there was never any hurry, there 

 was always an abundance of delicious apples to be eaten, 

 and when one no longer had room to eat there was plenty 

 of time to fill the sacks. In the hedge fence near the old 

 Shaker Yellow apple tree was a bird's nest of a variety 

 whose name we did not know. The nest's owner was some- 

 what larger than both the phoebe bird that nested un- 



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