EDITORS' NOTE: The following piece was sent to us by W. Lockeretz (Tufts 

 University). It is from the Life Histories Collection from the Federal Writers' 

 Project of the Works Progress Administration. It is a transcript of an interview of 

 Mr. G. O. Bunnell during 1938 and 1939. At the time of the interview, Mr. Bunnell 

 was 75-80 years old. 



The Hay, Grain, and Feed Man: 



G. O. Dunnell, Northfield, Massachusetts 



I'm getting this axe ready to fix the fences 

 on Christian Hill that the hurricane busted. 

 Not that the hurricane blew 'em down but it did 

 blow down some trees. And the trees is what 

 busted the fences. I dim' over one. Had to, to 

 get to camp, and I see they was more down. 

 Couldn't do anything that night because it was 

 getting da'k, and I had to come home, but I'm 

 going back just as soon as the roads get settled 

 enough so's I can. 



It's a funny thing, but I don't think that, as 

 a rule, there was as much wind over that way as 

 we got here. What did most of the damage was 

 the water. And, another funny thing I noticed 

 was that of the trees that come down in the 

 apple orchards, it was the ones that had never 

 been grafted. Those that had been grafted 

 stood up. 



How'd I know? I know most every apple tree 

 they is on Colrain and Shelbume mountains, 

 and in the north part of the town of Greenfield. 

 'Cause I was the feller that grafted 'em, that's 

 why! I used to go all over grafting trees. And I 

 had ten or twelve hundred trees of my own, too, 

 that I'd no business leaving. But people would 

 come tease me and tell me how much extry they 

 were willing to pay for my trouble, that I was 

 generally on the move. Once I went to 

 Greenfield. And I didn't get home for a week. 

 Spent the nights there with the different ones. 



'Course, theys a trick to it. But 'most 

 anybody can put on a scion so's it'll grow. But 

 that ain't all they is to it. You got to figure what 

 the tree's going to be shaped like. You shouldn't 

 get the scions growing into each other the way 

 most people do. And you ought to fix; the tree 



so's somebody can pick the apples without tying 

 a couple of ladders together or hiring a balloon. 



Apple trees like to grow among the rocks - 

 that is, most kinds do. The hills each side of our 

 valley here are just right. All we can grow here 

 that's any good is the Blue Pearmain. And they 

 got such a tough skin that people don't like 'em. 

 They are an awful good flavor, though, until 

 they got mealy - oh, they^s others; russets and 

 early transparent and so on. But what I was 

 getting at is the way I found the best of raising 

 good flavored apples. Apples grow wild over in 

 Colrain. It is just as natural to find a wild apple 

 tree in Colrain as it is to find a birch in 

 Warwick. I had a lot of 'em in my woods. 

 'Course, the fruit of a wild apple tree is no good 

 except for cider. But the trees themselves is 

 generally healthy. I'd find a good one, then I'd 

 saw off such limbs as I thought should be off, 

 and put a scion in it. If it was a fairly big limb 

 that I figured would pinch the scion off if I didn't 

 do something about it, I'd whittle a little thin 

 wedge and put that in just beyond the scion, for 

 the limb to pinch on to. What do I mean by 

 scion? What that's a little shoot fi-om the brand 

 of tree I wanted. I had Baldwin scions and 

 Mcintosh scions and Porter scions, and all 

 kinds of scions. I cut 'em in March - that's the 

 best time to graft around here. Maybe, I'd 

 make a Baldwin tree out of a wild apple tree, or 

 a Greening, or a Northern Spy. Sometimes I 

 fixed 'em so's they had different kind of apples 

 on every limb. But that's nothing but a kind of 

 joke. Nobody that runs an orchard wants trees 

 with fruit all mixed up on 'em. 



I said I only put one scion to a limb. I always 



Fruit Notes, Volume 62 (Number 2), Spring, 1997 



23 



