342 An American Fruit-Farm 



neglected orchards and vineyards. We hear of 

 ''the run-down farm," not of the "run-down" son 

 or daughter of the farmer. We hoe the garden 

 industriously and let the children and even our- 

 selves run to weeds. And then, when the boy and 

 the man, the girl and the woman are choked by the 

 weeds, youth is old and broken before its time, and 

 old age has not ''love, obedience, and troops of 

 friends." 



"My orchard runs to apples," said one fruit- 

 grower to another, in the Valley, one morning, a 

 touch of contempt in his voice; "And mine," replied 

 his neighbor, "runs to boys." Paradoxical as it 

 may seem, the object of a fruit-farm is not to raise 

 apples, grapes, peaches, berries, or cherries, but 

 boys and girls, men and women, youth and old age. 

 He has the best fruit-farm who raises the best fruit. 

 When, at last, come Old Age and crafty Death, as 

 surely they will come, by its fruit the fruit-farm 

 and the farmer are known. It is not his bank- 

 account but his boy that is the real asset or lia- 

 bility of his life. Here cluster all associations ; here 

 center all memories. The men and the women who 

 live for the children, just as robins live for young 

 robins, have lived naturally. But the life is more 

 than meat and the body than raiment. Wisdom 

 is the principal thing and the best fruit-farming 

 is understanding. Spreading orchards and rolling 

 vineyards are fair to see and fruitful, but their real 

 beauty and fruitfulness are in the use made of them. 

 ^' Here a man grew! " marks the site of earth's great- 



