Lawrence democrat. (Lawrenceburg, Tenn.) 1884-1925, 1890-07-04

bundles and labeled them with the
names Of good fruit. that we might bet
ter conceal the demon within them.
We carried them to the house, whore
father and neighbor Anderson still sat-
enjoying the cheerful fire that burned
brightly upon the hearth.
"When we delivered our CRAFTS, the
face Of the old man lighted up with hope.
He saw not the curse put upon them,
but fancied that through the years, he
saw rosy-cheeked apples waiting for the
gatherer's basket He lifted his eyes In
thanks, as he uttered his God bless
you, boys, you shall share with me the
fruit of my trees
"We did not tarry long, but stole out
side and laughed heartily at the old
mans promise to share the apples with
US. Well be much obliged to him.
said Jacob, but Pm afraid they'll be too
tough for me-
But | soon felt repentant, and as he
went trudging home, carefully carrying
his worthless CRAFTS, Icould not help pity.
ing him. 1t seemed too late, however,
to undo our thoughtless deed, and I
tried to quiet my troubled Conscience.
looked at his tottering form, and said
to myself: 1T makes no difference what
we gave him, he will not live to eat
fruit from his trees Do you believe it.
boys, even as stood ashamed of my
own act, those ungrafted sprouts bore
fruit, and 1t tasted OF the demon EN-.
barked in them.
"For two years neighbor Anderson
cared for his orchard, and seemed to
take much pleasure in seeing his trees
grow firm and strong. When he died,
both Jacob and l followed his funeral
train, and as we took our last look at
the corpse, we fancied we saw on his
cold lips the same hopeful smile they
wore when he promised us fruit from
his apple trees. The hopeful dream Of
the future that had filed his breast
during life seemed not to have departed,
but nodded itself into an image in the
form of lifeless clay.
when they came to settle up his es
tate they found heavy mortgage upon
the farm, and when the place was sold
my father purchased 1t, and in his will
left 1t to me. Thus lived to own the
orchard, and eat fruit from the CRAFTS
had imposed upon harmless old man.
Now, my boys, l have told you thu
story Of my apple trees, and when am
laid in the grave ! wish you to destroy
them all, and plant in their stead the
best trees that money can buy. You
must be patient with them few year,
longer, for have use for them while
live. When selfishness or malice tempts
me to wrong another, the ghosts hidden
in the trees rustic about among tbs
leaves, and warn me to think anew
When seek to avoid doing neighborlj
deeds voice from the orchard on tbs
hillside breathes into my ear the Ger
tainty Of my eating the fruits Of nh
own charity, No, boys, can not LEI
you cut down one tree"
When grandfather had finished hi
story James and stole away to or
work, leaving him to rest his silve'
gray head upon his cane, and muse up'
interrupted over those early memories
that lend the scar days Of age the ga;
colors Of youth.
Grandfather Carver has long sincs
gone home to meet ''neighbor" Ande-
son, and share with him such fruits I'll
never grew on earthly trees. The axt
has laid low the old orchard, and in IL
stead are planted trees that bear suol
apples as fancy pictured to neighbcl
Anderson long years ago.
His dream has become reality-ha
materialized into living trees with roo
and branch and fruit waiting the gath
erer's basket; but after all, they do no
satisfy; there is something about then
that is wanting. In bearing their Loaf
of fruit they seem to dwarf themselves
and become commonplace.
1t may be an idle within, but memor,
will have mono of them. She still pict
ures frail old man going about among
the great trunks Of aged trees, moralizinl
over the graver problems Of human life
and gathering fruit far more sweet thar
that now ripening in the sunshine. Mel
may sorrow over what seem to be tn
errors Of the past but God lets nothing
grow In vain. What we scoff at an,
call useless, and clear away, makes u
better, and he sees in all some purpose
and molds out Of 1t truths that Cal
never pass away.-Milan Still, in Yankee
| Rlade