CHAPTER XXII 



THE OLD ORCHARD 



MARCH was unusually raw even for that un- 

 cooked month. The sun had to cross the line 

 before it could make much impression on the 

 deep frost. After the 15th, however, we began 

 to find evidences that things were stirring below 

 ground. The red and yellow willows took on 

 brighter colors, the bark of the dogwood assumed 

 a higher tone, and the catkins and lilac buds be- 

 gan to swell with the pride of new sap. 



If our old orchard was to be pruned while 

 dormant, it must be done at once. Thompson and 

 I spent five days of hard work among the trees, 

 cutting out all dead limbs, crossing branches, and 

 suckers. We called the orchard old, but it was 

 so only by comparison, for it was not out of its 

 teens ; and I did not wish to deal harshly with 

 it. A good many unusual things were being 

 done for it in a short time, and it was not wise 

 to carry any one of them too far. It had been 

 fertilized and ploughed in the fall, and now it was 

 to be pruned and sprayed, all innovations. The 

 trees were well grown and thrifty. They had 

 given a fair crop of fruit last year, and they 



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