I call the red ones my rosy-boys."
"Grafted?" said Rollo; "how did he graft it?"
"O," said Georgie, "I do not know exactly. He cut off a little branch
from a rosy-boy tree, and stuck it on somehow, and it grew, and bears
rosy-boys still."
Rollo thought this was very curious; Georgie told him he would give him
an apple, and that he might have his choice--a pippin or a rosy-boy.
Rollo hesitated, and looked at them, first at one, and then at another;
but he could not decide. The rosy-boys had the brightest and most
beautiful color, but then the pippins looked so rich and mellow, that he
could not choose very easily; and so Georgie laughed, and told him he
would settle the difficulty by giving him one of each.
"So come here," said he, "Rollo, and let me lean on you, while I knock
them down."
So Rollo came and stood near him, while Georgie leaned on him, and with
his crutch gave a gentle tap to one of each of his kinds of apples, and
they fell down upon the soft grass, safe and sound.
[Illustration]
They then went into the house, and Georgie gave Rollo his money, wrapped
up in a small piece of paper; and then Rollo, bidding him good by, went
out of the little white gate, and walked along home.
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