1 5^ Next to the Ground 



flattened at either end, of a deep tawny yel- 

 low, and thickly covered with the richest blue 

 bloom. The flowers, green and inconspicuous, 

 come out in mid-May all along last year's 

 twigs. Sometimes they are very many, some- 

 times very few. By their number you can 

 judge the next fall's persimmon crop, since 

 every one sets fruit. This early-ripe fruit is 

 lusciously sweet and juicy. The pulp is near 

 the color of a ripe pumpkin's flesh, but a 

 thought more tawny. It lies close around 

 the seeds, which are flat, satin-smooth, and of 

 a light brown, each firmly incased in a fleshy 

 skin. A persimmon might indeed be described 

 without libel, as a rosette of these flat seeds 

 bedded in pulp and covered. To the very last 

 the seeds keep the puckery quality of the green 

 fruit, so, in eating, it is the part of wisdom 

 merely to suck the pulp. 



Late persimmons hang on all winter, and 

 are thus a real godsend to the wild things in 

 the time of deep snows. The trees grow most 

 commonly on poor clay soil, lying high and 

 dry, yet reach a fair size for their kind. Per- 

 simmon trees never grow big — one as much 

 as two feet across at the butt is exceptional. 

 The late trees bear lavishly, literally loading 

 down their twigs with fruit, but the fruit is 

 small, not half the size of the early globes, yet 

 fuller of seed. It is also dry, to mealiness, yet 



