s dried apples there. How would it be to stew them
to-night, and stir in a little flour to thicken them? Wouldn't they
thicken up better if you were to cook them to-night and let them stand
until morning?"

"Guess they would," replied George. "There ain't many of 'em here.
Shall I put them all to cook?

"Yes," said Hubbard, "put them all to cook, and we'll eat them for
breakfast with that small trout Wallace caught and the two ptarmigan
entrails."

In the morning (September 11th) we drew lots for the trout, and George
won. So he took the fish, and Hubbard and I each an entrail, and, with
the last of the apples before us that Hubbard's mother had dried, sat
down to breakfast.

"How well," said Hubbard, "I remember the tree on the old Michigan farm
from which these apples came! And now," he added, "I'm eating the last
of the fruit from it that I shall probably ever eat."

"Why," said George, "don't you expect to get back to eat any more?"

"That isn't it," replied Hubbard. "Father signed a contract for the
sale of the farm last spring, and they're to deliver the property over
to its new owners on the fifteenth of this month. Father wanted me to
come to the farm and run it, as he's too old to do the work any longer;
but I had other ambitions. I feel half sorry now I didn't; for after
all it's home to me, and always will be wherever I go in the world.
How often I've watched mother gathering these apples to dry! And then,
the apple butter! Did you ever eat apple butter, boys?"

George had not, but I had.

"Well," continued Hubbard, "there was an old woman lived near us who
could make apple butter better than anybody else. Mother used to have
her come over one day each fall and make a big lot for us. And, say,
but wasn't it delicious!

"I've told you, Wallace, about the maple sugaring on the farm, and you
had some of the syrup I brought from there when I visited father and
mother before I came away on this trip. We used to bring to the house
the very first syrup we made in the spring, while it was hot--the
first, you know, is always the best--and mother would have a nice pan
of red hot tea biscuits, and for tea she'd serve the biscuits with
cream and the hot new syrup. And sometimes we'd mix honey with the
syrup; for father was a great man with bees; he kept a great many of
them and had quantities of honey. He had a special house where he kept
his honey, and in which was a machine to separate it from th