A JOURNEY TO NATURE 



come every twelvemonth. Cherry year occurs 

 about once in a decade. Then this fruit asserts 

 itself along the roadside with reckless prodigality. 

 Then the old trees remember the opulence of 

 other days, and the children climb up into them 

 and rejoice. All the neighbours mark time with 

 enormous cherry puddings and &quot;slump.&quot; Have 

 you ever been present at &quot; slump &quot;? No? What 

 a lot you have missed. There is a rotund and 

 reckless profusion to &quot; slump &quot; when it is turned 

 out of the pot upon a big dish and comes on 

 steaming like a mountain of ambrosia that would 

 captivate your soul, narrowed as it is by petty 

 courses and relays of side dishes. Then it is that 

 the women stand over the hot stove and gossip 

 about the price of sugar, and try in vain to screw 

 the lids off their glass jars. 



But after all, it is a shame to cook the jolly, 

 carnal cherry. He should be eaten alive, for he 

 is a gentle, meaty reminder of our primal carnivo 

 rous days, and we fondly call him an oxheart, as 

 if with a fleshly remembrance. 



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