Apple

 

Here's Apple, loved by young and old
And sometimes worth his weight in gold.
We hail him with delighted cries
When he comes to us, baked in pies.

 

       Assemble a mini doll sized book: Right, is the Apple's illustration and verse. Visitors can collect all the vegetable illustrations and verse from "Mother Earth's Children" to print and construct a small book of verse for their dolls. Simply drag each png. into a Word Document, print, cut out all of the images the same size and staple the pages together at the left edge. Squeeze out some white school glue along the stapled edge of the pages and attach a cardboard cover.

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More About Apples:

• DIY Doll Sized Candied Apples
• Chalkpaint "Aa is for Apples" on a wooden slat basket
• The Golden Bird fairytale - "who east the golden apples..."
• October's Bright Blue Weather
• The Apple Blossom flower child

 Apple
Though born on Asia's Western plains
Each continent is in my veins,
My crooked boughs, my noble fruit,
All temperate climates seem to suit.
America has loved me well,
As every boy and girl can tell.

       "From the Orchard came Apple Jack, a most agreeable gentleman doll. Lady Hollyhock was not the only person who was proud to receive him. Everybody liked him, not alone for his engaging smile and pleasant manner but because of his goodness. Then he could always be depended upon to stand by his friends, and the advice he gave was always of the best. But we will let him tell his own story." Margaret Coulson Walker

Apple Jack's Story

Apple Jack is the name I bear

And it suits me well, I ween;

My home was once in an apple tree

Among the leaves so green.

My head and body were separate then

With never a stick between.

Though both are now of the richest red,

When young, like the leaves they were green.

Each part of me swung on a separate bough

The whole long summer through-

My color was changed by the sun's warm rays

I was washed by the rain and the dew.

When the autumn came I had a great fall

Which was the making of me,

For a boy chanced that way and took me up

And made me the man you see.

Though I never can do any work for this friend

Who helped me to be what I am,

I'll stand by him through trouble and joy

And always prove loyal and calm.

If he should choose to take me in

I would cause him never an ache,

For, since he was the making of me,

I'd go down for friendship's sake.

As long as on the earth I stay

I will try to give him joy,

With a beaming smile upon my face

I will always greet this boy.

The world loos so funny through apple-seed eyes,

To laugh is all I can do;

And when I go, "Greet your friends with a smile"

Is the message I leave to you.

Apple Blossom

APPLE BLOSSOM is a fairy,

Swinging in a tree so airy;

By and by the little sprite

Sprinkles the ground with pink and white.

       Assemble a mini doll sized book: Right, is the 's illustration and verse. Visitors can collect all the flower illustrations and verse from "Flower Children" to print and construct a small book of verse for their dolls. Simply drag each png. into a Word Document, print, cut out all of the images the same size and staple the pages together at the left edge. Squeeze out some white school glue along the stapled edge of the pages and attach a cardboard cover.

The scientific name for Apple Blossom from the Apple Tree, the scientific name of this tree is Malus domestica. Read more about this tree here.

Back to the Flower Children Index. 

       Decorate a window in your classroom or in your home using these apple blossoms and a pattern of a bumble bee. Tape them neatly to the window or tack them onto a bulletin board if you prefer.

Window designs include a branch of apple blossom and bee.

Fruits and Vegetables

        Fruits, as well as vegetables, have been important in man's diet since the beginning of civilization. What is a fruit? Generally speaking, a fruit is that part of a plant that bears seeds. There are three kinds of fruits: (1) fleshy fruits, which have their seeds in the pulp (apples, oranges, cucumbers); (2) stone fruits, which contain pits or stones (plums, cherries, peaches); and (3) dry fruits (beans, nuts).

       Fruits are found growing all over the world. All fruits, however, are not used in the same way. To  the people of the tropics, the banana, fig, coconut, date, and breadfruit are staple articles of food. These fruits are nourishing because they contain much protein. They are used as substitutes for meat and other protein foods.

Produce market in Spain.

       The apple is the most popular of fruits and has been cultivated from prehistoric times. No other fruit is found growing over as great an area as the apple. The United States is the greatest apple-producing country of the world, with the state of Washington leading all other states in output. The apple tree is hardy. It is able to grow in many different climates and in many kinds of soil. Its fruit has good keeping qualities.

       Second to the apple in popularity is the orange, with its relatives, the lemon, lime, and grapefruit. These citrus fruits are tropical plants; yet the United States leads the world in citrus fruit production. All citrus fruits have thick oily rinds that are bright orange or yellow in color. Citrus fruits are extremely sensitive to frost. Vitamin C, found in all citrus fruits, is valuable in preventing and treating colds.

       What is a vegetable? Frequently we use the word vegetable‚ in place of the word plant‚ for example, vegetable kingdom. Vegetables may be any part of the plant: the leaf stalk (rhubarb, celery), the leaves (spinach, lettuce, cabbage), or the root (carrots, beets, radishes). The root vegetables are especially high in energy value.

       The onion is one of the most widely used of vegetables. Although it neither looks nor smells like the Easter lily, the onion is closely related to it. The people of ancient China and India enjoyed the onion's pungent taste just as we do today and served onions both raw and cooked. Closely related to the onion and used for the same purpose are garlic, leeks, shallots, and chives.

       Some plant parts, such as peas, beans, tomatoes, peppers, okra, squashes, and avocados, are popularly known as vegetables although they are really true fruits. These fruit vegetables are used in salad dishes and main-course dishes. Probably the most popular of these foods is the tomato. Once known as the love apple, the tomato was long considered poisonous and was grown only for ornamental purposes. When people learned that the tomato was not poisonous it became very popular. Today, tomatoes are used in a greater variety of ways than any other vegetable.

       Vegetables are particularly nutritious because of their high vitamin and mineral content. Vitamins and minerals are substances found in many foods. They are necessary for the normal functioning of the body as well as for the development of sound teeth, bones, and other structures. The greater part of many vegetables is made up of water and much smaller amounts of sugar and starch. Because vegetables contain so much water they are sensitive to weather changes and tend to spoil easily.

       Fruits and green vegetables should have a place in every meal. Not only are these foods valuable in furnishing one's body with vitamins and minerals but they also give back much of the water lost through perspiration. 

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Fruits vs Veggies by 2 Minute Classroom.

My Apple Tree

 

My Apple Tree
by Louise Martin

I had a lovely apple
With great big golden seeds,-
I dropped them carelessly about
Among the sun-dried weeds.

'Twas such a luscious apple,
I ate right to the core,
Then just before I threw it down
I found one big seed more.

I saved that seed and planted it
In mother's garden plot;
I watched it grow, and watered it
Wen summer days were hot.

And now it is Next Summer,
And, true as true can be,
That tiny seed has grown until
It is a baby tree.

And Mother says that some day
I'll find that tree has grown
As big as those a farmer has,
With apples of its own.

I'm glad I had that apple,-
It's wonderful to know
That planting even one small seed
Will make a big tree grow!

Apple Poems, Crafts & Stuff...

The Fairy Ball

The fairy King and Queen danced in
the center of the ring.

       It  was  night,  and  the  Popovers  sat  out  under the  apple  tree  and  watched  the  stars  in  the  dark blue  sky  sparkle  and  wink  like  so  many  fairy candles.

       Ellen  had  left  them  there  in  the  grass.  She had  played  with  them  out-of-doors  after  supper and  had  forgotten  them  and  had  gone  to  bed. This  the  Popovers  knew,  for  they  had  seen  the light  flare  up  in  her  bedroom,  had  watched  the shadow  on  the  blind, and  had  then  seen  the windows  grow  dark  again,  and  they  knew  it meant  that  Ellen  was  safely  tucked  in  bed.

       '  But  the  night  is  warm  and  the  grass  is  soft and  the  children  are  well  wrapped  up,'  said cheerful  Mrs.  Popover,  "so  I  shall  not  mind  in the  least  staying  out  all  night.'

       'Neither  shall  I,'  said  Mr.  Popover  bravely, 'unless  of  course  I  should  catch  rheumatism in  one  of  my  legs.'

       'I  like  it  out  here,'  piped  up  Velvetina.  'I like  the  little  singing  noise  I  hear  in  the  grass'

       'They  are  crickets,  my  dear,  who  are  making that  noise,'  said:  Mr.  Popover,  'little  brown crickets  who  live  in  the  grass.  I  used  to  know a  great  many  crickets  when  I  was  a  boy  and held  clothes  on  the  line.'

       'I  think  the  music  of  the  crickets  makes  Loo-Loo  sleep  well,'  said  Mrs.  Popover,  looking down  at  the  Baby  she  held  in  her  arms.  'He hasn't  stirred  in  ever  so  long.  I  do  hope  they won't  stop.',

       'They  will  not  stop,'  answered  Mr.  Popover wisely.  'They  will  play  until  late  in  the  night. And  here  comes  the  moon.  It  will  soon  be  as bright  as  day.'

       Higher  and  higher  in  the  sky  climbed  a  big bright  moon.  It  was  round  as  round  could  be. The  Popovers  had  never  before  seen  a  moon  so large  and  so  round.  But  perhaps  that  is  because they  had  never  before  spent  the  night  out-of-doors.  The  moon  shone  down  on  the  apple  tree and  turned  its  leaves  to  silver.  It  touched  the grass  all  round  about  with  a  soft  white  light.

       The  Popovers  enjoyed  the  moonlight.  They enjoyed  the  music  of  the  crickets  too.  They could  not  feel  lonely  nor  afraid  out  under  the apple  tree  so  long  as  these  gay  little  musicians were  near  by.

       A  large  gray  moth  came  fluttering  past.  He brushed  against  Mrs.  Popover's  hair  and  Velvetina's  cheek  with  his  soft  pale  wings.  He flew  round  and  round  in  the  moonlight,  dipping down  and  stopping  every  now  and  then  as  if  to whisper  to  some  one  hidden  in  the  grass.  Then away  he  flew,  and  no  sooner  was  he  gone  than the  noise  of  the  crickets  grew  louder  than  before.

       Cheep!  Cheep!  Cheep!  Cheep!  Cheep!

       It  sounded  as  if  they  were  playing  a  merry little  tune.  Velvetina  could  scarcely  sit  still in  the  grass,  she  did  so  want  to  stand  up  and dance  in  the  silver  light  of  the  moon.

       She  was  just  about  to  ask  her  mother  if  she might  not  whirl  about  by  herself  for  a  little when  out  of  the  shadow  behind  the  apple  tree flew  a  butterfly,  a  great  green  butterfly  with brown  and  orange  spots  upon  its  wings.  Behind this  butterfly  came  another  and  another and  another  until  the  air  was  filled  with  butterflies, yellow  and  blue  and  green  and  black, spotted  and  striped  in  every  shade  and  hue.

       Upon  the  back  of  each  butterfly  rode  a  fairy, the  prettiest,  daintiest  little  creatures  that  the Popovers  had  ever seen.  They  were  not  so  tall as  a  blade  of  grass,  and  the  Popovers,  who  had never  before  seen  any  one  smaller  than  themselves, suddenly  felt  awkward  and  clumsy  and much  too  large.

       'Velvetina  must  have  dancing  lessons  and learn  to  be  graceful,'  thought  Mrs.  Popover, 'even  if  I  have  to  teach  her  myself.'

       The  fairies  drove  their  butterflies  swiftly along,  so  swiftly  that  their  fairy  hair  blew  out behind  them  in  the  wind.  Then  down,  down, down  they  guided  the  butterflies  to  the  soft grass  before  the  apple  tree  where  the  moon shone  the  brightest  and  the  crickets  played  the loudest  and  the  merriest  too.

       Off  the  backs  of  the  butterflies  stepped  the fairies  and  as  they  moved  about,  light  as  thistledown, the  Popovers  could  see  them  as  plainly  as could  be.

       There  were  little  boy  and  little  girl  fairies  and father  and  mother  fairies  too.

       '  Perhaps  some  of  them  are  grandfather  and grandmother  fairies  for  all  we  know,'  whispered Mrs.  Popover  in  Mr.  Popover's  ear.

       They  were  dressed  as  if  for  a  party  in  palest rose  and  blue  and  violet  and  green.  Some  wore sunshine-yellow  and  others  silver-white,  and each  one,  even  the  tiniest  fairy,  wore  a beautiful pair  of  filmy  wings  that  seemed  to  be  made  of  a bit  of  the  rainbow.  At  least  that  is  what  Velvetina  thought  of  them  and  wished  with  all  her heart  that  she,  too,  had  a  pair  of  wings  like theirs.

       The  Popovers  sat  quite  still  and  watched  the fairies.   They  saw  them  take  hands  and  form  a  large  ring.  But  instead  of  dancing  about,  the  fairies  stood  as  if  waiting  for  someone,  and  each  fairy  face  wore  a  smile,  the  happiest smile  that  any  one  might  see.

       'Mother,  why  are  they  waiting?'  whispered Velvetina,  pulling  at  her  mother's  dress.

       Mrs.  Popover  shook  her  head.  But  in  less than  a  moment  Velvetina's  question  was  answered.

       Through  the  air  there  came  flying  four  fireflies. Their bright  orange-yellow  torches  lighted the  way  for  eight  splendid  white  butterflies  who carried  on  their  backs  not  only  six  of  the  prettiest  fairies  the  Popovers  had  yet  seen - ladies  and  gentlemen-in-waiting  they  later proved  to  be  -  but  also  no  less  than  the  King and  the  Queen  of  the  Fairies.

       The  Popovers  knew  who  they  were  in  a moment.  For  of  course  the  King  and  the  Queen, beside  being  the  prettiest  fairies  of  all,  wore  each a  shining  golden  crown  upon  his  and  her  tiny fairy  head.  The  Queen's  dress  was  of  finest  cobweb  lace,  while  about  the  shoulders  of  the  King was  flung  a  golden  cape  that  sparkled  like  sunlight on  the  water  when  the  waves  are  dancing

in  the  wind.

       When  the  fairies  in  the  ring  saw  that  the  King and  Queen  had  come,  they  not  only  smiled  more sweetly  than  before,  but  they  clapped  their hands  and  laughed  aloud.  And  when  the  King and  the  Queen  stepped  into  the  ring  the  fairies bowed  to  them  as  gracefully  as  cornstalks  bow when  a  summer  breeze  passes  over  a  field  of corn.

       Then  the  fairies  danced  about  their  King  and Queen,  to  and  fro,  round  about,  in  and  out, while  the  moon  shone  brightly  and  the  apple tree  rustled  softly  and  the  crickets  played  their wing  fiddles  as  gay  as  gay  could  be.

       Next,  the  King  and  the  Queen  danced,  at first  alone  in  the  center  of  the  ring,  and  now  the Popovers  were  sure  that  this  was  the  prettiest dancing  that  could  be  done.  But  soon  the  King and  the  Queen  joined  the  ring,  and  when  the Popovers  saw  them  all  dancing  together,  the happiest,  most  graceful  little  people  in the  world,  they  changed  their  minds  and  murmured to  one  another  that  nothing  could  be more  beautiful  than  this.

       'And  Ellen  would  say  so,  too,  I  know'  said Mrs.  Popover.

       To  which  Mr.  Popover  nodded  and  added under  his  breath,  'I  wish  Ellen  were  here  to  see this,  I  do.'

       The  fairies  were  dancing  merrily  and  the Popovers  were  watching  every  step,  when  out from  behind  the  apple  tree  flew  a  sober  brown butterfly.  Seated  on  his  back  was  a  fairy,  a grown-up  fairy,  plump  and  comfortable-looking, who  wore  a  wide  white  apron  and  a  neat  white cap.

       She  was  skillfully  driving  her  butterfly  with one  hand,  for  in  the  other  arm  she  held  a  bundle, a  tiny  white  bundle,  not  much  larger  than  a  pea. And  from  the  bundle  there  came  shrieks  and screams  that  sounded  so  like  Loo-Loo  when having  a  crying  spell  that  Mrs.  Popover  looked down  at  her  side,  where  she  had  placed  Loo-Loo,  to  see  if  he  were  still  safely  asleep.

       At  the  sound  of  these  shrieks  and  screams the  dancing  ceased.  And  no  sooner  had  the plump  fairy  alighted  than  the  Queen  rushed forward  and  took  the  screaming  bundle  from her  arms.

       At  that  moment  the  screaming  stopped. Yes,  as  soon  as  the  Queen  took  the  bundle  the screaming  stopped.

       Then  the  plump  fairy  spoke.

       'Yes,  your  Majesty,'  said  the  plump  fairy, making  a  bow  to  the  Queen,  'it  is  Prince  Midge. He  has  been  screaming  for  you  ever  since  you left  the  palace.  No  matter  what  I  did,  still  he screamed.  I  gave  him  his  bottle,  and  I  danced him  up  and  down,  and  I  even  let  him  have  the cat  in  bed  with  him,  too.  But  he  wouldn't  stop screaming  for  you,  and  so  I  brought  him  here. Yes,  your  Majesty,  that  is  what  I  did.  I  brought him  here  to  you.'

       Prince  Midge's  nurse  folded  her  hands  at  her waist  and  looked  at  the  Queen,  and  the  Queen looked  at  naughty  Prince  Midge  in  her  arms, and  the  King  looked  at  the  ring  of  waiting  fairies and  then  at  the  Queen.

         'But  now  you  won't  be  able  to  dance  with  us, my  dear,'  said  the  King,  'and  it  won't  seem  like a  Fairy  Ball  to  any  of  us  if  the  Queen  doesn't dance.'

       The  Queen  shook  her  head  with  a  little  sigh.

       'I  know  it,'  said  she,  rocking  Prince  Midge  to and  fro,  'and  I  do  so  like  to  dance.  But  if Baby  won't  stay  with  Nurse,  what  can  I  do?'

       Now  the  Popovers  had  been  watching  all  this with  eager  eyes.  Prince  Midge's  crying  had wakened  Loo-Loo  and  Mrs.  Popover  was  hold- ing him  again  in  her  arms.

       When  she  heard  what  the  Queen  said,  Mrs. Popover  stepped  forward.

       '  Perhaps  Prince  Midge  will  let  me  hold  him,' said  she,  pleasantly,  to  the  Queen.  'You  see,  I have  a  baby  of  my  own.'

       The  fairies  were  much  surprised  to  see  the Popovers.  They  had  been  so  busy  with  their dancing  that  they  had  not  noticed  the  little family  sitting  under  the  tree.  But  they  all bowed  and  smiled  politely  and  then  stood  back to  see  how  Prince  Midge  would  behave.

       As  we  said,  Loo-Loo  was  now  awake  and  sitting up  in  his  mother's  arms.  He  stared  solemnly for  a  moment  at  little  Prince  Midge  and then  smiled  broadly  as  only  Loo-Loo  could smile.  Little  Prince  Midge  stared  solemnly back  and  then  in  his  turn  smiled  a  little  fairy smile  into  Loo-Loo's  face.  Mrs.  Popover  smiled too  and  held  out  her  arms.  And,  would  you believe  it,  Prince  Midge  went  straight  to  Mrs. Popover  and  cuddled  down  without  a  sound. And  there  they were,  one  on  each  shoulder, Loo-Loo  and  little  Prince  Midge,  both  as  good as  gold  and  smiling  at  one  another  as  if  they were  old  friends.

       '  Wouldn't  your  little  girl  like  to  dance  with us?'  asked  the  Queen  politely  of  Mrs.  Popover.

       So  Velvetina,  blushing  and  smiling,  stepped forward,  and  with  the  Queen  on  one  hand  and the  King  on  the  other,  was  taken  into  the  fairy-ring.

       Now  the  dance  began  again,  and  Mr.  and Mrs.  Popover,  watching  from  under  the  apple tree,  thought  it  the  prettiest  sight  their  eyes had  ever  seen.

       'I  think  that  Velvetina  is  a  graceful  child' said  Mrs.  Popover,  smiling  to  see  Velvetina whirl  about  and  trip  to  and  fro.  'I  have  made up  my  mind  that  she  shall  have  dancing  lessons when  we  move  into  the  attic  again.'

       'Yes,  she  dances  nicely,'  agreed  Mr.  Popover. 'I  was  a  good  dancer  myself  when  I  was  a  boy.'

       When  at  last  the  dance  was  over,  it  was  not because  the  fairies  had  grown  tired,  oh,  no! It  was  because  the  moon  had  moved  out  of sight  behind  the  hill,  because  the  stars  were  now pale  in  the  sky,  and  because  there  was  a  dim light  in  the  east  that  told  all  the  fairies  that  day would  soon  be  here.

       "Thank  you  for  holding  Midge  for  me,'  said the  Queen,  shaking  Mrs.  Popover's  little  china hand.  'He  is  a  very  naughty  boy,  and  I  am going  to  ride  home  with  Nurse  and  carry  him myself  for  fear  he  cries  again.'

       "Thank  you  for  letting  the  Queen  dance,' said  the  King,  making  a  pretty  bow  to  Mrs. Popover.

       Then  he  kindly  patted  Velvetina  upon  the cheek.

       'Your  little  girl  dances  nicely!'  said  he.

       And  at  this,  Mr.  and  Mrs.  Popover  and  Velvetina were  so  pleased  that  nothing  in  the  world could  have  made  them  feel  more  happy.  No, not  even  if  they  had  been  invited  to  the  Fairy Palace  for  a  week.

       They  watched  the  fairies  mount  their  butterflies and  flutter  away,  one  by  one.  They  waved until  the  last  fairy  was  out  of  sight.

       Then  the  crickets  and  the  Popovers  fell asleep,  not  to  wake  until  next  morning  when  the sun  was  high  in  the  sky.

       'Oh,  I  am  so  sorry  I  left out  out  all  night,' said  Ellen,  when  she  found  them  there  in  the morning  under  the  apple  tree.  'I  am  sorry  as I  can  be.   I  do  hope  you  didn't  take  cold.'

       The  Popovers  only  smiled,  but  later,  when Ellen  was  not  about,  Mr.  Popover  had  something to  say.

       'Sorry?'  said  Mr.  Popover.  'We  are  not sorry.  We  are  glad.  But  I  wonder  what  Ellen would  say  if  we  told  her  about  the  fairies.'

       And  I  wonder,  too,  what  she  would  say. Don't  you?

Previous Chapter and Next Chapter

One Thanksgiving Day

Grandfather remembers the
old days.

       Once upon a day, our whole family, mother and father, and my sister Editha, and I, and, Aunt Mollie from Big Hill, and the two hired men; and Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jane, Cousin Meg and Cousin Peg, and Cousin Ned and Cousin Fred from the city, all went to grandmother's for the whole day. 
       It was November. Once in school we read that a man named Hood wrote about November, and we knew he and his whole family had never been to his grandmother's for a whole wondrous day or he never could have said it. 
       "No shade, no shine, no butterflies, no bees. 
       No fruits, no flowers, no leaves, no birds. 
       "November!" And Bryant couldn't have had the things in November we had, or he wouldn't have just groaned, 
       "The robin and the wren are flown, and from the shrub the jay. 
       And from the wood-top calls the crow through all the gloomy day." 
       My sister Editha and I never in all our lives saw a gloomy November-
        "Wailing winds and naked woods, and meadows brown and sere."
        The pines and the hemlocks were never naked, nor the evergreen nor the reindeer moss nor the partridge vine, nor the checkerberries. And we thought brown a beautiful color for hair and dresses and roads and caramel candy, so why not for all the meadows, part of the year? 
       Besides, just think of all the vegetables and berries and big fruits that were in the cellar in jars, all treasured up. The leaves were getting ready for spring, and who would think of missing butterflies and wrens, when there was grandmother's, and Thanksgiving and the Pilgrims to think about? Anyway, mother told us she thought November was pearl gray-like, gray pearls, with a shine all through the month because of Thanksgiving. 
       "There is harmony in autumn and a lustre in its sky," agreed father. 
       It was always Thanksgiving when we all went to the Big Gray House of the Apple Orchard all at one time. You see, there were too many of us to all go often. There was grandfather, of course, and Rosy, who helped grandmother with the housework, and two little pale-blue-eyed old ladies that smelled of lavender, who used to go to school with grandmother, and always came over for Thanksgiving dinner and all the rest of us. 
       Grandfather's and grandmother's house was five miles from our house, down the mill road. The stone church was just a little way off. We started very early on Thanksgiving day, because we didn't want to miss anything, and there were heaps of things not to miss. 
       We bumped along in the democrat wagon over the rutty, frozen road, and we kept getting hungrier and hungrier. It looked like snow. It always looked like snow on Thanksgiving day, but it never did snow. It just kept getting more pearl gray and Thanksgiving-y. Editha and I were glad the apple orchard house had stayed gray. 
       You could remember better how old it was. We could call ourselves the seventh generation that had lived there, because we had lived there a whole week one summer, and had had the east front room with the canopy top bedstead and the copper-plate spread with the valance, great blue chest with real linen sheets in it, and the ladder back chairs with rush bottoms, and the yellow maple washstand. 
       Grandmother said there were samples from every generation in every room in the Gray House.
        Weren't we glad when we caught the first glimpse of the old apple tree in the front yard, the one we'd had the board swing in that summer! Then, there was grandmother-father's mother, you know -standing in the front doorway, in a brown-sprigged sateen with a white bib apron with funny little curlicues like stencil stamping running round it, her hair in beautiful white waterfalls over her ears, and her cheeks pink like an old daguerreotype picture. And behind her was grandfather, his face as round as an apple, and as merry-grandfather and his silver headed cane. And in another minute there was Rosy, helping carry in the nut-cakes and jellies mother always brought, and the pile of magazines for winter reading, and the very last of our baby chrysanthemums -russet and gold, from our garden. 
       "Good and early as usual!" chuckled grandfather. 
       "You'll have to put some bricks on these girls' heads," said grandmother. "Come right in and take off your things. Lay them on the sofa. Mollie 'll be here anytime now. Jane and Charlie wrote they might be a little late, because they've taken it into their heads to bring some sort of a surprise. Always up to something." 
       "I'm thinking," said grandfather mysteriously, "the surprise has something to do with Ned.” 
       Ned was our oldest cousin, and most grown up. Ned was in college and knew ever so much. He was very tall and straight and called us little girls, when anybody could see we weren't little at all. 
       "Smell the turkey," cried Editha. 

       "Smell the good old cedar fire," cried father. "You girls going to eat so much you'll have to roll on the old woolen carpet this year?" 

       That reminded Editha and me that we were hungry. We didn't even stop to look in the Chippendale mirror with the gold eagle on top. We didn't even stop to slide off the haircloth sofa, or look up our names in the old family Bible. We ran into the kitchen and whispered to grandmother. Grandmother had a beautiful smile, like, well, like Thanksgiving. She put it on when we whispered. "Raisen cake," she whispered back. "Apple pie sweetened with molasses, brown bread with raisins in it, fried cakes, and brown sugar cookies. Help yourselves, but you can't have another thing till dinner-time." 

       "There's always the box of hard checkermints in my room on the bureau," chuckled grandfather at her elbow. "And plenty of lemon drops. I'm thinking Rosy'll give you some of the anise sticks her young man brought her. I guess you young folks won't starve." He added, "Want to peek at the pies?" 

       Did we? 

Peeking at the pies!

       Sitting in spicy rows on the "buttery" shelves mince and squash and pumpkin, lemon, dried peach and dried apple, cranberry, cream and custard, and dozens more. Plenty of them for the family and plenty for Thanksgiving treats for other folks. Just as Editha and I finished fixing the centre piece, all kinds of vegetables from the cellar piled on a great pewter platter, up the path came Aunt Mollie, arms full of fruit-cake and jams. Up the path came the hired men, arms full of books for the winter reading, and the next minute up the road in the station carriage came Uncle Charlie and Aunt Jane and all the cousins, and boxes of candy, and oranges and white grapes and pink grapes and purple grapes, and the surprise, Ned's surprise. 

       She was a lovely girl who looked like a big beautiful doll, and she was just as quiet and bashful as one, too, at first. She was all dressed in a garnet dress trimmed with gray fur, and, what do you think, on her ring finger was a gray pearl ring Ned had given her, and in her arms was a box of great puffy hot-house chrysanthemums, yellow and white, for grandmother. 

       I couldn't help looking at her, every once in a while, all through church time in the little stone church, even while we sang, "We thank Thee, Heavenly Father,” “I praise Thee, Lord, for blessings sent," and "Let The Creator's Praise Arise." Ned's Gray Pearl Girl sang like a lark we used to hear in our very own meadow at home. Uncle Charlie must have told folks about her beautiful voice, because, just before the proclamation, she sang a solo, the one about the Pilgrims, you know- 

       "Ay, call it holy ground, 

       The soil where first they trod! 

       They have left unstained,

       what there they found,— 

      Freedom to worship God." 

       The President's proclamation was wonderful. It made you feel so grown-up and so small at the same time. It was about the vintage being ripe, and the harvest heaping, and families being together, and it said something about the "season of mellow fruitfulness." Editha and I wished Mr. Hood and Mr. Bryant could have heard it. People got up and told how thankful they were, too, and somebody called November, "The Sabbath of the year." 

       Walking back to grandmother's, we were all very quiet, counting things we were glad about, and when we got there, there was grandmother in her best gray dress with the white fichu, and grandfather in his gray suit, with his gold-headed cane, and Rosy, and the two little pale-blue-eyed old ladies that smelled of lavender, and, dinner, waiting for us. 

       “Thy bounty shines in Autumn un- confined. 

       And spreads a common feast for all that live.' 

       Make every day a Thanksgiving Day," said grandfather with bowed head.

       We thought about that, while we were taking jellies and jams and pies and cakes and fruit and magazines to folk who, (maybe like Mr. Hood and Mr. Bryant), didn't have beautiful apple orchard houses, and own folks, and a new cousin with a gray pearl ring, singing "The Breaking Waves Dashed High," and the Pilgrims, and so many other things to be thankful for. Oh, you felt as if you were fairly bursting with joy! Myrta Little Davies

Read History About Thanksgiving:

• Squanto, The Native American Hero of Thanksgiving
• Giving Thanks at Thanksgiving: A Curious History
• The Macy's Thanksgiving Day Parade

Cherry Jam

        Aunt  Amelia  was  going  to  the  city,  shopping, and  Ellen,  with  Caroline,  was  to  stay  at  home.
       Ellen  didn't  mind,  for  she  had  a  busy  day  before her.  She  was  making  a  summer  house  for the  Popovers  out  under  the  apple  tree.  She  had gathered  little  stones  and  pebbles  wherever  she might  find  them.  She  had  a  whole  pailful,  a red  seashore  pail  filled  to  the  brim.  She  meant  to fence  off  a  bedroom,  a  living room,  and  a  kitchen for  the  Popover  family  that  very  morning.
       'The  Popovers  need  country  air,'  said  Ellen, 'and  this  is  the  best  air,  under  the  apple  tree.'
       Aunt  Amelia  and  Ellen  stood  on  the  porch steps  saying  good-bye.
       'Do  just  what  Caroline  tells  you,'  said  Aunt Amelia,  'and  perhaps  there  will  be  something in  my  bag  for  a  good  girl  when  I  come  home  tonight.'
       Ellen  put  both  arms  about  Aunt  Amelia's neck  and  hugged  her  close.
       'Do  you  think,'  whispered  Ellen,  "that  I could  have  jam  for  my  luncheon,  so  that  I  won't miss  you  so  much?  The  jam  we  had  yesterday is  all  gone.   Caroline  told  me  so.'
       Aunt  Amelia  nodded  with  a  smile.
       'You  certainly  may  have  jam  for  your  luncheon,' said  she,  'and  you  may  get  it  from  the preserve  closet  yourself,  if  you  like.  Do  you know  what  kind  you  want?'
       'Cherry'  answered  Ellen  promptly.  'It  is my  favorite.  And  I  will  know  it  on  the  shelf because  I  can  see  the  cherries  through  the  jar.'
       Ellen  waved  until  Aunt  Amelia  turned  the corner.  Then,  packing  the  Popovers  into  a  little brown  basket,  she  carried  them  out  under  the apple  tree.
       She  seated  them  comfortably  against  the  root of  the  tree  and  for  a  long  time  the  Popovers watched  Ellen  hard  at  work,  building  their summer  house.
       She  sorted  the  pebbles,  the  large  from  the small.  She  laid  them  in  long  lines,  as  straight  as a  string.  She  turned  the  corners  nicely,  with the  greatest  of  care.  And  when  Ellen  had  built a  bedroom,  a  living room,  and  a  kitchen,  she felt  warm  and  tired  and  quite  ready  to  stop.
       'I  think  I  will  go  down  now  to  the  preserve closet  after  my  jam,'  said  Ellen  to  the Popovers. 'And  you  must  come  with  me,  for  I  am  afraid  to leave  you  here.  Blinky  might  get you.'
       So  into  the  little  brown  basket  went  the  Popovers  and  down  into  the  cellar  trudged  Ellen, for  there  stood  the  preserve  closet,  as  Ellen  well knew.
       'Do  you  hear  Caroline?'  asked  Ellen  of  the Popovers  as  she  climbed  slowly  down  the  cellar stairs.
       Yes,  the  Popovers  heard  a  swish,  swish, swish  from  above,  though  they  made  Ellen no  answer,  but  stared  at  her  with  unwinking eyes.
       'That  is  Caroline  sweeping,'  said  Ellen.  'She is  upstairs  in  Aunt  Amelia's  room.  I  can  tell. She  is  busy,  so  she  mustn't  be  bothered  about the  jam.  Now  you  sit  down  on  the  floor  outside the  closet,  and  when  I  come  out  you  must  guess what  kind  of  jam  I  have.'
       The  Popovers  were  ranged  in  a  row  along  the closet  wall,  and  with  a  farewell  smile  Ellen pulled  open  the  door  and  stepped  inside.
       The  preserve  closet  was  built  across  one  end of  the  cellar.  It  was  lined  with  shelves,  and  on those  shelves  stood  jars  of  all  sizes,  filled  with all  kinds  of  good  things.
       There  were  jars  of  jelly,  currant  and  crab apple  and  grape.  There  were  pickled  peaches and  pickled  pears  and  pickled  water  melon  rind. There  was  orange  marmalade  and  peach  marmalade, and  great  jars  of  preserved  blackberries and  raspberries,  too.  There  was  quince  preserve and  plum  preserve.  There  was  jar  after  jar filled  with  pickles,  too.
       But  best  of  all  Ellen  liked  the  shelf  where stood  the  jams,  strawberry,  raspberry,  blackberry,  peach,  and  Ellen's  favorite,  great  tall jars  of  rich  red  cherry  jam.
       Straight  to  this  corner  went  Ellen,  and  after studying  the  jars  for  a  moment  picked  out  the tallest  jar  of  cherry  jam  that  she  could  find.
       Then  she  sat  down  on  the  chair  Caroline  kept in  the  closet  to  stand  on  and  held  her  jar  up  to the  light.  Although  Aunt  Amelia  called  this cherry  jam,  the  cherries  were  left  in  it  round and  whole  and  Ellen  could  see  them  plainly  as the  light  from  the  window  shone  through  the jar.  The  color  was  a  deep  ruby  red,  the  cherries looked  plump  and  sweet,  and  Ellen  was  so pleased  that  she  hugged  the  jar,  in  its  neat paper  cap,  close  in  her  arms  as  she  sat  far  back in  the  comfortable  old  chair.  She  thought  the preserve  closet  a  pleasant  place  in  which  to  rest a  moment,  and  so  it  was.
       In  the  first  place  the  room  was  as  neat  as  a pin,  not  a  speck  of  dust  anywhere.  Caroline would  not  have  it  otherwise.  Then,  too,  it  was cool  and  shady.   Yet  it  was  not  lonely  in  the least,  for  in  at  the  open  window,  closely  screened, nodded  the  ivy  that  covered  the  side  of  the house,  pink  flowers  from  the  Rose  of  Sharon bush  fluttered  sociably  down  on  the  grass,  and a  plump  brown robin  strutted  past  the  window, looking  so  important  that  Ellen  laughed  to  see him  go  by.
       Outside  the  closet  door  in  the  quiet  of  the cellar  the  Popovers  felt  sleepy.  Inside  the  closet in  her  comfortable  chair,  Ellen  felt  drowsy,  too.
       She  twisted  round  in  the  chair,  she  put  up  her arm  for  a  pillow,  and  with  the  cherry  jam  lying snugly  in  her  lap  Ellen  fell  asleep.
       Upstairs  Caroline  finished  her  sweeping.  She dusted  and  tidied  the  rooms.  She  swept  her  way down  the  stairs,  she  swept  her  way  through  the hall,  and  when  she  stepped  into  the  kitchen Caroline  looked  at  the  clock  and  saw  that  it  was past  the  hour  for  luncheon.
       'Ellen  will  be  faint  with  hunger,  playing  so nicely  out  under  the  trees,  too,'  thought  Caroline.
       She  made  haste  to  prepare  luncheon,  and presently  she  stepped  out  under  the  apple  tree to  call  Ellen  in.
       Of  course  there  was  no  Ellen  there,  not  even a  Popover  to  smile  up  into  Caroline's  face. Blinky  was  there,  stretched  out  asleep  in  the Popover's  dining room,  but  he  didn't  know where  Ellen  was,  even  if  he  could  have  told.
       Then  Caroline  called  to  Ellen,  over  and  over again,  and  Ellen,  asleep  in  the  preserve  closet, heard  not  a  single  sound.
       Caroline  hurried  into  the  house.  She  looked all  round  downstairs  and  upstairs  and  even  in the  attic.  And  she  saw  no  sign  of  Ellen  no matter  where  she  looked.
       Then  Caroline  became  frightened.  She  stood out  on  the  sidewalk,  gazing  up  and  down  the street.  Oh,  how  she  longed  to  see  the  figure  of  a little  girl  with  yellow  curls  and  a  blue  dress  come running  toward  her!  Oh,  how  she  wished  Aunt Amelia  had  not  gone  away !  Oh,  how  she  wished that  Uncle  Henry  were  at  home  to  help!  What should  she  do  next?  Where  should  she  look  for Ellen?
       While  Caroline  stood  there,  her  pleasant  face puckered  into  a  hundred  anxious  wrinkles, across  the  way  there  came  strolling  a  tall  policeman, swinging  his  stout  stick.
       Caroline  knew  him  well.  His  wife  was  the aunt  of  Caroline's  cousin.  So  Caroline  eagerly beckoned  Mr.  James  to  come  over  and  in  less than  two  minutes'  time  she  had  told  him  how Ellen  had  disappeared.
       'I  don't  think  she  has  gone  down  the  street,' said  Caroline,  shaking  her  head.  '  She  is  a  good child.  She  wouldn't  run  away.'
       'Let  us  go  through  the  house  again,'  said  Mr. James.   'I  think  we  shall  find  her  there.'
       So  Caroline  and  Mr.  James  went  through  the house,  and  Mr.  James  peered  in  places  where Caroline  had  not  thought  to  look,  behind  boxes and  in  closets  and  even  under  beds.
       At  last  the  cellar  was  reached  and  still  no Ellen  had  been found until the Popover family was seen leaning up against a wall near the cellar closet door. Soon Mr. James, Caroline and a very sleepy Ellen were reunited inside the cellar where jars of jams, pickles and jellies were stacked  for the winter.
      Caroline  hugged  Ellen  because  she  was  not  lost.  Then the  Popovers  were  put  in  their  basket  and  every one  went  upstairs,  Ellen  holding  fast  to  her  jar of  cherry  jam.
       Mr.  James  was  obliged  to  go,  though  Caroline and  Ellen  invited  him  to  stay  to  luncheon.  And Caroline  drank  four  cups  of  tea,  she  was  so  upset, and  Ellen  ate  all  the  cherry  jam  she  wanted.
       But  the  Popovers  were  the  happiest  of  all,  for when  they  were  alone  and  could  talk  outloud Mr.  Popover  said:
       'If  it  hadn't  been  for  us,  sitting  there  by  the closet  door,  Mr.  James  and  Caroline  might never  have  found  Ellen.'
       And  so  all  the  Popovers  believe  to  this  very day.

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Miniature Mouse Cider House

       This miniature cider house or cider shack was built by my daughter to put into a larger seasonal display. She made it very quickly in my opinion: she wiped it together inside of an hour! Later she added the mice and a few more details that I talk about at the bottom of this post.

Finished cider shack minus the mice.

Supply List:

• decorative fall or harvest themed papers + print of wooden plank flooring
  
• Sculpey for mini pumpkins
• white card stock for signs, basket of apples and award
• recycled lid for framed print
• straw scraps for loft
• corrugated cardboard for faux "metal roof"
• tray of watercolors
• Mod Podge
• small cardboard box for the tiny pub
• two spools for the table + scrap cardboard for the top
• scrap fabric for table linen
• tiny mugs for the cider (purchased)
• acrylic paints for the signs and roof details

Step-by-Step Instructions: 

1. Select and shape the roof of a shallow box. This one has an arched shape. The faux corrugated metal is actually made from a well defined interior corrugated cardboard insert. It was painted with additional shades of brown to make it look even more extreme. 
2. Next the interior walls and floors with decoupaged with decorative papers. The outside side walls of the shack were already decorated with the apple print that you see in the photo below.
3. Then the back oval window with glued in mullion was cut out and painted. 
4. A small simple print of flowers was cut from scrap paper and glued inside of a shallow lid to make it look framed. This was then glued to a side wall for further decoration.
5. My daughter then made little signs for the mouse cider house, one with a menu another for the outside of the display labeling what it was intended to represent.
6. She then used her watercolors to paint a basket of apples for the attic storage room. 
7. She sculpted the 3 dimensional pumpkins from Sculpey oven-bake clay and followed the directions for baking it posted on the package. 
8. She then painted the pumpkins orange and their stems green. Let these dry and brushed on Mod Podge to seal them.
9. She glued two large wooden spools to the bottom of a table top cut from cardboard. 
10. Afterwards she cut a scrap of plaid fabric for the tablecloth and set the table using store bought mugs.
11. Lastly, she made the 1rst place award ribbon for best squeezed cider and hung it above the table with mugs.

Left, the window cut out from the back and given a cross shaped mullion. Center, the side of the
original recycled box had this apple print on it. Right, just a few details make for a cozy shack for
 tiny mouse dolls to eat and drink the delights of the Fall seasonal harvest!

One month later . . .

Left, the barrel of "popcorn", the donuts and caramel apple, an old-fashioned apple press and
finally the cotton batting mouse were later added to the miniature display items. Center see all
of the things together. Right, details of her little cotton batting mouse with overalls and freckles.

See my daughter's mouse sized Christmas market here.

DIY Doll Sized Candied Apples

These faux candied apples are approximately one inch in diameter; perfectly sized for our 18" American Girl dolls.

       Every doll lover should have a sweet, candied apple selection for her dolls to enjoy during the holidays. Ours are made from small, turned wooden apples and popsicle sticks. Just cut the sticks to the length you prefer and glue them into the centers of each apple. Let the glue dry and stiffen over night before painting the apples with red, gold or green acrylic paints. Then dip your apples into your choice of caramel, white or brown chocolate colored paints. 

       Place the wet apples on top of wax paper and let the dipped paints settle and dry so that the apples are supported by a small amount of paint pooled beneath them. This is how real caramel or candied apples are allowed to dry too! It should take several days for the paint to dry. Carefully peel away the wax paper after the paint on the apples has hardened. 

       Give the apples even more decorative surfaces with colored puff paints, glitter glue and beads that look like small hard candies, if you'd like.

Left, small 1" diameter wooden apples with flat bamboo skewers glued into the top where stems would
originate from. Right, I've painted half of my apples green and the other half red.

Left, apples drying upside down inside of a plastic egg carton. Right, apples dry on top of brown paper.

Left, Caramel Candied Apples. See a real recipe here.
Right, Jolly Rancher or Red Hots Candied Apples. See a real recipe here.

Left, White Chocolate Dipped Apples with Drizzle. See a real recipe here. 
Right, Chocolate Dipped Apples. See a real recipe here.

More Candy Apple Crafts:

• DIY American Girl Candy Apples!
• Miniature Candy & Caramel Apples - Polymer Clay Tutorial

Your Birthday Trees

       A tree, like all growing things, belongs, in a way, to all who enjoy it. But it is a splendid idea for you to have a tree that is definitely your own. A tree that is at its best during your birthday month will soon come to be a real member of the family, watched and cherished.
       Many children plant their own trees. If your birthday happens to come in March or April, you can plant an oak or an elm, an apple or a maple, to celebrate the day, and as you grow, the tree grows with you. Presently you stop growing, but the tree goes on, and by the time you are a man or woman you will look at your tree and marvel at its size and beauty. It will some day give you a great thrill to tell some little child how you planted the acorn from which the oak grew, or the apple tree when it was only a whip. Many a grown man points with pride to some old tree that his grandfather planted.
       The trees that lose their leaves in winter are called deciduous trees and these can be planted successfully only when they are dormant or asleep, which is in the early spring or late fall; but evergreen trees - all except the holly - can be planted at any time during the spring and fall. They must have plenty of water given them for the first year, and they will repay your care. Here is a list of trees and shrubs to plant for birthday months:
       If you were born in May, plant a dogwood tree in April.
       If you are a June child, plant a climbing rose in April or in the late fall before the ground freezes.
       If you want a tree to do its best for you in July, plant a black cherry in April.
       If August is your month, plant in April a pair of pale pink or white Rose of Sharon bushes.
       In September a mountain ash is a lovely sight with all of its red berries. And ash planted early in April may not have berries for a year or two, but once it is started, your ash will not forget your birthdays.
       In October a maple changes to gold or red, or an apple tree bears its gifts.
       In November the little Christmas rose in a sheltered corner begins to bloom, or bittersweet is bright with fruit.
      For the December baby the holly is at its best. January is the month when a white pine is a welcome friend amid the snow. In February a pussy-willow will greet you with its furry buds. In March you can bring in branches of forsythia, and they will burst into bloom. Now that it is April, you can choose for yourself, you April children, what shall be your birthday tree, shrub, or flower? Wodell.

 

Poem illustrated.

 The Trees by John Martin

I turn away from my own fears,

And doubts and pain that come 

with these;

Forgetful of all loss and tears,

My soul communes with trees.

Oh, understanding friends of mine,

There are no heights or depths in me

Your fearless patience can't divine,

Your wisdom cannot see.

Your roots have pierced the somber earth;

You've spread your branches into

Heaven;

Tempest and sunshine taught you

mirth;

You've suffered and forgiven.

 

Your spirit speaks the living word

Out of the very heart of things.

The thunder and the song of bird

Out of your being springs.

 

No matter what I ask, you give;

An unmoved, faithfulness is yours.

I need not fret, complain, or strive,

When such calm strength endures.

You taught the meaning of true

prayer;

You bound God's goodness close

to me.

The perfect Song of Life

is where

He put His living Tree.