PRINTED MATTER IN FRUIT PACKAGES 293 



has that abilitj^ or can secure it in am- way, it will take witli an 

 especially good class of customers. Here is one of the best of this 

 type (Fig. 154) . The contents of the leaflet follow : 



We think that the apples grown in this orchard have a -little the best 

 flavor of any on earth. We wish that you could see the heavily laden 

 trees amid the beauties of the prettiest part of old New England. 



Dame Nature was in a kindly mood when she fashioned tliis farm. 

 She tipped the best land to the east that it might catch the earliest sun- 

 shine, fed it with springs and protected it from the cold winds by placing 

 it in an amphitheatre of encircling hills. The clover-covered fields stretch 

 up over the hill-tops, while below them woodlands reach down to the 

 little brooks in the valleys. Deer come into the fields, and, in the early 

 mornings, stand and watch us with startled gaze. Scarlet tanagers build 

 their nests in the apple trees and sing their love songs from the branches. 

 Mother partridges play the old, old game of the broken wing when we 

 come upon their little, scuttering broods. 



But it was Aleck Eastman's love for his trees that built up this 

 orchard. Forty-six years ago lie and his wife settled on this farm. Even 

 in the first year Aleck planted a few trees, for he' had inherited the love 

 of them from his father. He planted new ones and trimmed up the old 

 ones. Every year saw a few more trees set out, wliile his neighbors called 

 him crazy for using good land that might be made to feed cows for his 

 slips of trees. But Aleck loved his trees. He imported the first spray pump 

 that came into this county and began to kill the bugs before they came. 

 He got up early and he worked late. He did the work of two strong men 

 that his trees might not suffer while his farm was carried on. 



Then, just when the orchard was coming into its own, Aleck awoke 

 to the fact that it had outgrown him. His baby trees were grown to full 

 treehood and as he became feebler tlie trees demanded more and more work. 

 He could no longer climb to the topmost branches to prune and spray and 

 pick. He had never hired help and he was too old to begin. In all liis days 

 no one had come to see his trees and show an appreciation of his work 

 with them until I happened along. If any of his neighbors bougiit the 

 place they would begin by cutting down the trees that he had spent his life 

 to bring up. He could not carry it on any longer, so he proposed to sell 

 the farm to me. That is why I am here to-day. 



These apples that Aleck Eastman raised I am offering to j'ou. 



Tliey are good because Dame Nature was tliinking of apples when ahe 

 fashioned this farm. 



They are good because Aleck put a labor of love into tending his trees. 



They are good because the rigors of the winters make hardy, full- 



