The evening star and Newark advertiser. [volume] (Newark, N.J.) 1907-1908, 1907-10-26

Chestnuts are herei
The vender. with his pan OF neatly
cut, savory smelling nuts, is becom-
ing a familiar sight on the street cor
ners. One may satisfy ones longing
for these delicious products of the
autumn, it's true, but there is no par
ticuIar feeling of elation in exchang-
ing a dime for a bag of them.
The only way to enjoy chestnuts IS
to hunt for them. Do you remember
the ecstasy which possessed you wnen,
as a child, you had made a good mo f.
O, yes, the city children went chest
nutting, too, but with what scorn the
child of the suburbs gazed upon MN
as he sailed forth armed with a musiln
bag, and hopes. He usually returned
home, sans hopes, and sans nuts.
"Ugh!, you say in fine scorn. TN
agine going nutting with a bag! WHATS
the matter with pockets?" you demand
with superior knowledge born of ex.
perience. Anyway, that city one
doesn't know any of the hunks" Where
the largest, sweetest, brownest nuts
can be found. He invariably goes TO
the wrong tree, and then walks around
casting a few shy glances here II
there, expecting to find the nuts-you
wonder how.
Has no one told him that when he
comes early, the only way to find a
chestnut is not to look, but to hunt.
for the rascally little fellows have a
way of hiding under a leaf with a
Observation-Disclosures spirit that, while
1t is exasperating, is most interesting.
Doesn't he know that 0 must hunt
with a stick, and surprise the little
brown fellow in his hiding place.
Poor CITY One" He doesn't know
that there is a trick in this sport, too.
But there is a time when hunting is
superhuous. The field is yours to cap
ture.
Just at the right" time a convenient
storm and a high wind come along, and
they do the work for you, which can
be accomplished by no one else. You
get up very early that morning. 1t
must be intuition which tells you that
The Time has arrived. You are awake
long before your usual time. Even
breakfast is a minor consideration.
You must hurry to the bunk" or you
will not be the first one. And woe, and
misery, If some one should be there
ahead of you.
You grab your hat as you rush out
of the house. To be sure, it is raining,
but there will be dry clothes where
there are no ohestnpts, and m can't
be expected to bother with such a
small matter on such a momentous oc-
easion.
As you hurry along, you pity that
boy from the town-that boy who came
a week too soon, and brought a muslin
bag. To be successful one must be ION
the job" you think to yourself, as you
near the tree.
Yes, you are the first.
All night the wind has shaken the
tr~ee-tops, and the ground is fairly
brown with the nuts. They haven't
had time to creep under the leaves and
into the grass, so that they might smile
in glee at the unsuccessful searcher.
One, two, three at a time you grab.
What matters 1t if in your haste you
encounter a burr. You can extract the
"stringers' at your leisure, but just
now you are much too busy.
Suppose some one should come! Hor-
rible thought! You glance around and
with a wicked sense of satisfaction you
note that you still have the field 20
yourself. One pocket is already full,
and you are working on the second.
You haven't time ito straighten up.
Crouching close to the ground, you pick
up all within reach. Then a move, an
other crouch, and another handful is
gathered.
Now you are no longer alone, and
instead of being sorry, you are really
very glad. For, after all, where is the
fun if there is no one to race, or to
gloat over if you come out ahead.
And SO the time flies, and before Won
have fairly gotten started it Is time
to go to breakfast. AS you empty
pocket after pocket, you give a sigh of
reilef that you do not nave to live in
the centre of a city, where chestnuts
grow" en- a vendors stand.