An old apple tree, with its gnarled,
and often hollow, trunk, is generally handsomer than a young one, unless
in the time of blossoms; for only a young apple-orchard is covered with
such a profusion of bloom as that we saw to-day."
"I am glad," said Clara, "that it belongs to the rose family, for now
the dear little buds seem prettier than ever."
"The apples are prettier yet," observed
Malcolm; "if there's anything I like, it's apples."
"I am afraid that you eat too many of them for your good," replied his
governess; "I shall have to limit you to so many a day."
"I have eaten only six to-day," was the modest reply, "and they were
little russets, too."
"Oh, Malcolm, Malcolm!" said Miss Harson, laughing; "what shall I do
with you? Why, you would soon make an apple-famine in most places. Three
apples a day must be your allowance for the present; and if at any time
we go to live in an orchard, you may have six."
"Why, _we_ have only one," exclaimed little Edith, "and we don't want
any more.--Do we, Clara?"
[Illustration: Apple Blossoms.]
"If you don't want 'em," said Malcolm, "there's no sense in eating
'em.--But I'll remember, Miss Harson. I suppose three at one time ought
to be enough."
Malcolm's expression, as he said this, was so doleful that every one
laughed at him; and his governess continued:
"The apple tree is said to produce a greater variety of beautiful fruit
than any other tree that is known, and apples are liked by almost every
one.
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