BOYHOOD LONGINGS. 117 



Coining back to camp I cut across country, 

 passing on the way the remnant of an old or- 

 chard, where, when I was a youth of sixteen, 

 I earned by picking apples, of which 1 got one- 

 third, the first overcoat 1 ever owned. My share 

 of the apples was hauled ten miles, sold for 

 about eight dollars and the proceeds invested in 

 the coat. It was a huge rough bluish-black 

 affair and so proud of it was I that I did not 

 wait for cold weather but wore it to school one 

 day without an undercoat and sat in it in the 

 warm school room for several hours. 



One of my most wished for possessions in 

 those old days was a knit jersey or sweater-vest. 

 The other boys mostly had them and how I used 

 to admire them, closely buttoned and of an at- 

 tractive hue. I cannot remember that my desire 

 to own one was ever gratified. Another longing 

 was for a pair of box-toed boots. These I finally 

 had an old shoemaker make for me, but they 

 were so small that he had to take them back and 

 make me another pair which were correspond- 

 ingly large. 



Thus the sight of a few old gnarly apple trees 

 in a sheep-grazed, blue-grass pasture calls up 

 the memories of yore, of a youth full of desires 

 and longings, full of hopes and ambitions for 

 I knew not what but for some niche to fill in 

 the great world beyond. In time it was found, 

 but it was years in coming. Since then the ex- 



