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CHAPTER XXII 
THE OLD ORCHARD 
Marcu was unusually raw even for that un- 
cooked month. The sun had to cross the line 
before it could make much impression on the 
deep frost. After the 15th, however, we began 
to find evidences that things were stirring below 
ground. The red and yellow willows took on 
brighter colors, the bark of the dogwood assumed 
a higher tone, and the catkins and lilac buds be- 
gan to swell with the pride of new sap. 
If our old orchard was to be pruned while 
dormant, it must be done at once. Thompson and 
I spent five days of hard work among the trees, 
cutting out all dead limbs, crossing branches, and 
suckers. We called the orchard old, but it was 
so only by comparison, for it was not out of its 
teens; and I did not wish to deal harshly with 
it. A good many unusual things were being 
done for it in a short time, and it was not wise 
to carry any one of them too far. It had been 
fertilized and ploughed in the fall, and now it was 
to be pruned and sprayed, —all innovations. The 
trees were well grown and thrifty. They had 
given a fair crop of fruit last year, and they 
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