THE AUNT JANE STORIES. 



VII. CURIOUS FRUITS. 



A carriage crossed the bridge. The 

 children heard it, and went flying down 

 the front lawn. "Here she comes ! Here 

 she comes !" they shouted, as they 

 opened wide the big gate. The carriage 

 stopped, after passing through the gate, 

 and was soon full of boys and girls, all 

 laughing and asking questions ; for Aunt 

 Jane had been away on a visit and was 

 now just returning to Woodland. 



"I've found a basket under this seat," 

 cried John, "full of bananas and 

 oranges." 



"Good, good," said Madge; "we'll sit 

 up till 'leven o'clock, eating nuts and 

 fruit." 



As Aunt Jane alighted each child 

 seized a bundle or basket, thinking 

 "maybe it contains something for me," 

 and, relieved of everything, their aunt 

 was triumphantly ushered into the house, 

 and the basket of fruit sent to the din- 

 ing room to be opened. How impatient- 

 ly the children listened for the bell to 

 ring, and how late it was when supper 

 was finally over, with piles of banana 

 and orange peel on every plate. 



"I'd like to live in the city just for the 

 sake of the fruit," said Edith. 



"That is what your city cousins say 

 about the country. You should hear 

 them praise country strawberries and 

 the 'thimble' or raspberry. They agree 

 with the poet : 



"Rich is he who asks no more 

 Than of blueberries a store." 



"Now, Auntie, you know very well 

 that the country has only common fruit, 

 and I should like to live on tropical 

 fruits." 



"You have a fruit which somewhat re- 

 sembles the banana. Don't you remem- 

 ber what a fine basket of pawpaws John 

 gathered this fall? Then there is our 

 persimmon, too, which looks like grand- 



ma's old-fashioned reticule tied up full 

 of sweets, if only you do not take it too 

 soon. But, by the way, we should re- 

 member that our so-called pawpaw has 

 no claim to this name, for it is really the 

 custard apple. The pawpaw is a tropical 

 fruit ; it is somewhat like a melon, ob- 

 long in shape, and is eaten raw with salt 

 and pepper." 



"The name pawpaw is Indian, is it 

 not ?" Howard asked. 



"Of course," cried Bird; "don't it 

 sound like papoose?" 



"Hold, not so fast," said Aunt Jane; 

 "the word is French, from 'Carica pa- 

 paya.' " 



"The 'custard apple,' if I must call 

 things by their right names, is not so 

 good as the banana," objected Edith. 



"It does have a disagreeable smell and 

 taste until extremely ripe," Aunt Jane 

 responded; "but, then, the soft, custard- 

 like pulp is considered delicious by many 

 people. There is one curious thing about 

 the fruit — only man and the opossum 

 will eat it; even hogs refuse it, no mat- 

 ter how ripe, I have heard. The custard 

 apple is never cultivated, but grows wild 

 in the forest. The tree is sometimes 

 from twenty to thirty feet high, but is 

 seldom more than four inches in diame- 

 ter. The leaf is large, widest toward the 

 point. The flowers are brown with a 

 light yellowish tint at the heart. They 

 are bell-shaped, and open in April." 



"Our custard apples grow on mere 

 bushes," said Howard, "and the wood 

 is bluish and the bark smooth." 



"The custard apple has big brown 

 seeds, and the banana — why, I never saw 

 a seed in one. How do they grow?" 

 Edith asked, in a surprised tone. 



"The banana is propagated by suck- 

 ers. Kingsley says (here is but one place 

 on the globe — the Andaman Islands — 



