e
snow-apples with their contrast of deep crimson outside and white flesh
within. The windfalls covered the ground ready to the hand; and the
branches bent under their burden. It was the season of apple-sauce with
cinnamon, and baked apples with a dab of jelly where the core ought to
be, and apple-tapioca and Brown Betty. And these tasted wondrous good,
even to youngsters already gorged with raw fruit.

In every front yard and along every street front the householders were
busy raking the crisp autumn leaves into great heaps and long piles.
Bobby and his friends liked solemnly to "swish" their little legs
through them; to roll in them; to hide beneath them by burrowing like so
many squirrels. If this was the season of fruit, it was also the season
of bonfires. Every one burned leaves in those days, blissfully
unconscious of future city ordinances. A thin sweet haze of smoke hung
constantly in the air mellowing the blue of the sky, softening the
outlines of the hills, aromatic as an incensed cathedral. In the
evenings the fires winked bravely on both sides the streets. Figures
with rakes were silhouetted against them. Smaller figures careered
wildly in and out the dense smoke. It was a great "dare" to run and jump
directly through the fire! Now the sun was getting lazy; and sometimes
Bobby was allowed the indulgence of a half-hour of this delicious wild
fun. He always came in smoky and overheated; and always Mrs. Orde vowed
that it should not happen again.... it did.

Then there were the hickory nuts to be gathered in pails and sacks and
spread out on the garret floor to cure. Unfortunately the hickory tree
was very tall, so the boys had patiently to await the pleasure of the
wind. Walnuts and butternuts, on the contrary, were to be knocked down
with well-aimed clubs; hazelnuts to be stripped from the bushes; and
beech-nuts to be shaken down by a bold and practised climber. And in the
woods the squirrels were busy laying away their winter stores.

Mr. Kincaid and Bobby were often afield on the beech ridges. Mr. Kincaid
carried his gun, but he did not use it. They looked for squirrels. The
woods were carpeted with dead leaves on which the sun lay golden. They
had to move very quietly and keep a very sharp lookout. When the game
was sighted, the matter was by no means resolved. Squirrels are lively
people, and expert at hiding. Bobby and Mr. Kincaid chased hard and
breathlessly to force their quarry up a tree. When that