CHAPTER XXVII
ON THE DARK OF THE MOON
In a little walled inclosure near the roadside at the old Squire's stood
two very large pear-trees that at a distance looked like Lombardy
poplars; they had straight, upright branches and were fully fifty feet
tall. One was called the Eastern Belle and the other the Indian Queen.
They had come as little shoots from grandmother Ruth's people in
Connecticut when she and the old Squire were first married. Grandmother
always spoke of them as "Joe's pear-trees"; Joseph was the old Squire's
given name. Some joke connected with their early married life was in her
mind when she spoke thus, for she always laughed roguishly when she said
"Joe's pears," but she would never explain the joke to us young folks.
She insisted that those were the old Squire's pears, and told us not to
pick them.
In the orchard behind the house were numerous other pear-trees. There
were no restrictions on those or on the early apples or plums; but every
year grandmother half jokingly told us not to go to those two trees in
the walled inclosure, and she never went there herself.
I must confess, however, that we young folks knew pretty well how those
pears tasted.
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