56 AN OLD ROAD. 



sweeter (or less sour) than other. Perhaps 

 the best vine was one that covered a cer- 

 tain superannuated apple-tree, half a mile 

 west of our river-side orchard, before men- 

 tioned. Here I might have been seen by 

 the hour, eagerly yet cautiously venturing 

 out upon the decayed and doubtful limbs, 

 in quest of this or that peculiarly tempting 

 bunch. These grapes were purple (how 

 well some things are remembered !), and 

 were sweeter then than Isabellas or Cataw- 

 bas are now. Such is the degeneracy of 

 vines in these modern days ! 



Altogether more important than the 

 grapes were the huckleberries, for which, 

 also, we four times out of five took this 

 same famous by-road. Speaking roughly, 

 I may say that we depended upon seven 

 pastures for our supplies, and were accus- 

 tomed to visit them in something like reg- 

 ular order. It is kindly provided that huck- 

 leberry bushes have an exceptionally strong 

 tendency to vary. We possessed no the- 

 ories upon the subject, and knew nothing 

 of disputed questions about species and va- 

 rieties; but we were not without a good 

 degree of practical information. Here was 



