ugh the sugar-place by a yoke of
oxen; or, if the ground slopes regularly, a system of spouts or pipes is
sometimes arranged to bring the sap from convenient stations to the
boiling-place.

It is roughly estimated that four gallons of sap will make one pound of
sugar. But the sap varies greatly in sweetness, not only in different
seasons, but in different parts of the same season, and in different
trees at the same time. As a general rule, large and widely-branching
trees produce sweeter sap than small and gnarled ones, as well as a much
larger quantity. The first sap of the season is always the sweetest, and
of the most delicate flavor, while late runs are of poorer quality, and
have a "buddy" and bitter taste.

A drink from the buckets is considered a great treat at first, and,
though it soon loses the charm of novelty, is always healthy and
refreshing, and is the common drink of the sugar-camp during the entire
season.

Sometimes, when the buckets are nearly full, there comes a cold snap,
and the sap is turned to ice. But, however hard it may have frozen,
there is always a central portion, small if the ice is thick, larger if
thin, which is liquid still. This is pure, concentrated sweetness, maple
honey unalloyed, though it never finds its way into the market.

So far all has been hard work, but now comes the boiling, and here the
poetry of sugar-making begins.

In those old days,--the halcyon days of youth,--after the sap was
gathered, and the fuel piled high beside the arch, then it was that we
sat down by the blazing fire and watched it burn; heaped on the logs,
filled up the kettle, and again sat down to muse, or talk, or read. If
the wind whistled afar, the boiling-place was in a sheltered nook; if
the rain poured down, or the snow-flakes fell without, we were protected
by the sugar-house or shed; if the day was cold the fire was warm; _and
the heart of a youth is never cold_.

When the weather was fine, and the sap running fast, it was often
necessary to spend a good part of the night in boiling sap. Instead of
feeling this a burden, here we found our pleasures but intensified. How
the bright blaze chased the dim shadows far back into the woods, and the
black smoke rolled up in great clouds to the sky! How sweet and warm and
refreshing was the sap as it grew more and more concentrated! And how
welcome were the neighbors' boys when they came to share with us the
midnight watch! There was many a thrilling