a 
A SUMMER DRIVE IN THE LAKE COUNTRY. 943 
ten days later than the rest of the tree, so it escaped 
the effects of the frost, and, in the fall, was loaded with 
apples. 
The “ Sheep-nose,” a large, crooked tree, standing by 
a stone wall, was a great resort for the squirrels, which 
harvested most of its fruit. One tree bore apples which 
resembled pears in flavor. It went by the name of 
“pear-apple-tree.” An old nursery, occupying one 
corner of the field, long ago became a tangled thicket of 
vines, brambles and scraggy apple trees. It was a favor- 
ite place for the shyer birds, and nearly every summer 
cuckoos and cedar birds had nests in this tangle. 
One spring my father gave me permission to graft 
the lower row of trees. The operations were fairly 
successful, but boy-like I made a “ mess” of it. Instead 
of putting only one kind of cions in a tree, I thought a 
variety would be better; as a result some of these trees 
rival “Joseph’s coat of many colors.” In one are 
“ golden sweets,” “fall pipins,” “pear mains,” “Bald- 
wins,” “ greenings,” ‘“ Tunecliffs,” “early boughs,” etc., 
summer, fall, and winter fruit, all colors and sizes, grow- 
ing together. How many pleasant associations cluster 
about this orchard! How many friends have trodden 
its paths, and eaten of its fruits! What beauty and 
fragrance it provided for those who long dwelt so 
near it! 
On the way back to Cortland, we stopped on the hill 
south of the village to get a panoramic view of the beau- 
tiful valley below. The sun had risen, and the steeples 
of the villages glistened in the light. Long silvery 
