Vilas County news. [volume] (Eagle River, Vilas County, Wis.) 1896-1927, 1901-09-09

Planting where others may reap is
altruistic conduct for which few care.
1t is so rare that an instance coming
to the ears of the French jury of the
Montyon prizes for virtuous acts, it
was investigated and the humble old
man was awarded honors. He was a
superanuated post carrier and spent
his leisure mending bridges over
mountain brooks, planting fruit trees
in unexpected places, grating Guilt
waited varieties on wild fruit in the
forest and planting Towering vines all
along the highways 1t was labor
of love, with no thought of reward
Memory recalls a similar philan-
thropist in America. He was the idol
of all children, and one who cherishes
"a recollection of hours spent with him
would not exchange them for months
of after years. With the fondness OF
an indulgent grandfather he took her
small hand in his one autumn after
noon, whispering that they steal away
to the walnut lot. 1t was too early
for walnuts, but there was an excel
lent view from the hilltop. The old
mans pocket bulged with apples, red
and yellow. Climbing the hill with
the child he stopped now and then to
unclasp his pruning knife and trim
the rambling briers along the fences
or to dig out young thistle, or to
shelter a wild rose with a barrier of
twigs, or to train a berry bush along
the stone wall that the sun might
shine on the ripening fruit.
Proud of Old Trees.
Once in the walnut lot he measured
the tree with pride. They were not
his own, but he had known them from
boyhood and had gone nutting every
October in forty years. Ridges of
blue limestone cropped out across the
entire ten acres, making them useless
for farming purposes. Along one side
ran the national pike and along the
other a private lane led to the farm
house, joining the pike at right angles.
The child and old man climbed the
rock heap in the corner between the
roads. He had shown her the
squirrels, crows and catbirds, an Owls
nest and hawk lazily sailing in the
blue sky. In return she had stood on
a stump and recited her one piece, up
from the meadows rich with corn in
memory of Barbara Frietchie.
Out from the pockets came the ap-
pies. The eyes of both glistened and
Jn4c fnY "a mir
yellow as sunshine. 1t fell on the
grandfather but an amicable division
of halves of apples soothed the child
ish disappointment With pruning
knife and experienced skill he deity
cored the apples and then cut them
into halves. Youth and old age sat
on the rocks in the sunset, eating the
luscious fruit, talking of the squirrels
chattering within an arms length
waiting for the apple cores, which in
stinct told them hid delicious
bitter seeds. But the grand
father had the cores in
his pocket, and when the feast was
ended he dug little holes about in the
rich soil between the rocks and
planted the seeds deep in the ground.
Story of Starving Traveller.
But" grandfather, this is not your
field; let's give the seeds to the
squirrels"
The grandfather laughed, selected
one core for the delectation of the
squirrels and spun a fairy story of a
oil
the pike and as he was about to per-
ish saw tree loaded with golden pip
pins. The quick fancy of the child
took fire, and she saw a party of
schoolboys crossing the fields to get
red-cheeked Jonathans. Years past.
No tree died in the grandfather's
orchard, but a young one took its
places One afternoon an old man past
ninety was found asleep in the woods
beside wild plum tree which he had
just grated with choice fruit. His
knife was still in his hand. His prun-
ing hook with little bag of peach
and plum seeds we're beside him. He
sat down to rest when his labor was
done and had fallen asleep with a
smile on his face.
Twenty years after the planting of
the apple seeds the child, now a
woman, joined a coaching party across
the mountains on the national pike.
At sunset the driver winded his horn
and stopped his horses on the hilltop.
Fl don't stop for the view," he ex-
planned" "but for that little orchard
in the corner of the stump lot.
There's not another apple orchard
like that in the county. It has pip
pins and bellf1owers and the best red
apples for eating. Climb the fence
and help yourselves. 1t don't belong
to anybody, and folks around here call
it the travellers orchard. Not one of
them would carry away more than
they could eat. When the walnut
trees were cut down they wouldn't let
one touch an apple tree.
Bears Fruit Every Year.