The Abbeville press and banner. [volume] (Abbeville, S.C.) 1869-1924, 1878-12-25
The Apple Harvest.

The NAPLES are afame the elms are GOLD,
The WOO lbine leaves are crimson. for the cole
Nips at them in the night. The blooms are oeao'
Save q few asters and the dragon head.
The corn is bound In stocks. The puHk'nS CIV"
Like amber globes. A brood OF chickens 20
Cross the brown fields. ~cackling like gosslps gay,
Perchance OF all the news OF yesteEoa!: ,ao-
Out 'twixt the gray green leaves the appIts pee''
Green. russell, golden "a the time OF year,
Or scarlet as the OAK THERE Is not one
But the sun aud clouds have left their marx up'n'
The air Is full OF spicy odors sweet,
Where'er YOU step the apple trip your leee.
o. from the brook the mushquash steals onlsnS
To feast on apples. And the squirrel ngn.s
With noiseless. winged feet upon the grouna,,
Taies a quick nibble, then with a swift ooune
Is of. Iu the dead grass the cricket whirIs'
As across the meadows come The harveeters,
The Farmer aud his sons, tall Joe aud Jonn-
TITS he the rosy mothers leaning on:
Then come the baby Mary and slim hate,
And Martha, she's a school maam and sedate.
And yonder. coming cross the reedy zen,
Is neighbor Strong. who, ike the saxon men
We read about IS s,alwart as a god,
Fair hair, rcd beaded, and he walks the SOD
AS lightly as q panther.
" Why here we are before the orchard gate,
Now, Martha, I will teach you how to Gimp,
I've climbed the apple trees many 3 time"
Al one swift bound che clasps a dussy hole
With 1.-the brown arms. The scresch owl quits bis
hole
To blink at this strange creature with bright curls
NDIe teetn, anu great piuo ese"
girls !" .
Then shakes the apple tree with such q good will
The scarlet baldwins rattle down, until
The grass seems strewn with tulips.
"Wait, "crIes Joe,
you'll spoil the apples if you serve them So
"Child," SAYS the ~gray-eyed Marth6, " you forget
Good manners; see, your frock Is tori ana Wet
Bnt Kate slides down tine trunk, her face aglow.
saOh," cries she, laughing, " let good manners 60 !!
Let me be natural like the birds and bees!
It Is so beautiful beneath the trees
See Wonder, across the field comes neighbor strope,
It is q pity that his legs are long
As are a cranes. Why Martha, you are req
As any poppy. Something ails your head.
You're sick, I'm sure you are. on, neighoor STRONG
How glad l am you Glanced to come along,
Just now Our Martha's face turned all ahame
A moment since. just as l spoke your name"
You are a tender little sister, Kate,
I'll care for Martha, and you need not whit"
Gravely says neighbor Strong, his smiling eyes
Enjoying Martha's bushes and Rates surprise,
on runs shy Kate, as swift as any doe,
To find her father and her brother Joe,
Who, chattering. quickly fills the wagon oo1
With windfalls for the press OF Jacob Cox.
81 like young Strong" the farmer says; his
And barley crops I'm certain can't be beat
Be's true as steel, ~ says Joe, But
Don't like him. breaks in Kate; Il can't tell why"
The farmer lau ,hs, and Joe begins to sing
In q soft tenor voice
1.-THE winter yields to spring."
"The winter yields to spring" sings Kate,
With alto sweetness.
"soon or late
The winter yields to spring,
Soon shall the haws be white as milk,
The birch unroll its leaves Of silk,
Eorso.th, I heard a bluebird singing
Only yesterday.
1.-THE winter yields to spring,
Oh, soon or late
The winter yields TO spring,
Soon will the loon skim DER thel AXE.
And the throsties slug within the brake.
Forsooth. / Jaw q dafodilly.
Only Yesterday"
"sing, wipdham, if you needs must sing
The farmer cries. "Songs dou't mean anything,
I like u tune that qutvers up and down.
Now happy as our Kate, now like old sister Brown,
She who is always gioaning. Life Is brief.'
"H-igh-ho ! over the hills
rhe moon is sailing.
Silent as gho'tsthe white clouds float,
And through them. like o silver boat,
The moon ia sailing.
Homes ure hid in the valleys low;
The twinkl,ng lamps move to and fro,
Now at a wedding feast they glow,
Now by o bier they stand i'll row,
Yet always the moon is sailing -
Sings John. His voice, as clear as a bassoon,
Follows the chaugeful cadence OF the tune.
While swift he gathers apples with each hand,
Signing, the farmer says. I" cannot understand
Why songs don't sound nowadays as once they did.
I'd just US soon bark to u katy-did
As to your singint. When I WAS q boy
A counting moIher. How I did enjoy
Hearing her sing 1 don't believe a lark
Fer sang so fine. The time We used to spark
Seems only yesterday, aud now we're gray
As Dobbins yonder. How time flies away"
Now on a lead OF apples Chambers Kate,
Now up a tree she scrambles, now sedate
Lectures the baby Mary. til grave Joe
Calls, " C3me, MISS Mischief. don't you want to go
I'm going with the apples to the mill,
And yon, perchznce, may hear q wnippoorwiH.
And with a sign Of rare good luck and bliss;
Kate throws her mother ana toll Jopn q kiss.
o,d Uobbin anbles of. The yellow road winds down
To the wild river, twixt the cedars brown,
Where gray rocks rise up threatening overhead,
The red mill nestles by the river bed
And ut the doorway at ,nds old Jacob Cox.
Who watches W tn keen eyes the wagon box,
Smelling afar the apples spicy smell.
"The worth OF apples d! Why, how can I tell,
I haiu't BEEN up TO town in most q week
They amt worth much, I've heard from Jonah
Peak
Cries Jacob, looking half askance at Joe,
While eager winds about tho wagon go,
Stealing the rare perfume, rare and fne,
That once to all Oily mpus was the vino
OF every youth.