170 THE CLERK OF THE WOODS 



on the roadward side of the wall. I remem- 

 ber it perfectly the fruit, I mean color, 

 shape, and flavor. Every year I see apples 

 of the same name in the market, but some- 

 how I can never buy any that look or taste 

 half so good as those that I used in lucky 

 moments to find here, waiting for me, in the 

 roadside grass. 



Those were Old Testament times in New 

 England. Gleanings belonged to " the poor 

 and the stranger." Who could dispute our 

 title ? We believed in special providences ; 

 and edible windfalls on the nigh side of 

 the fence were among the chief est of them. 

 Schoolboys of the present day, I take for 

 granted, are brought up under a different 

 code. They would go past such temptations 

 with their hands in their pockets and with- 

 out a squint sideways. They apprehend no 

 difference between " picking up " an apple 

 and stealing one. Such is the evolution of 

 morality. The day of the gleaner is past. 

 Naomi and Ruth have become mythical per- 

 sonages, as much so as Romulus and Remus. 



I was going first to Harvey White's pas- 

 ture (not to dwell unsafely upon confessions 



