The little boys were wild to act William Tell, but
Mrs. Peterkin was afraid of the arrows. Mrs.
Peterkin proposed they should begin by eating the apple-sauce,
then discussing it, first botanically, next historically; or perhaps
first historically, beginning with Adam and Eve, and the first
apple.
Mrs. Peterkin feared the coffee would be getting cold, and the
griddles were waiting. For herself, she declared she felt more at
home on the marmalade, because the quinces came from
grandfather's, and she had seen them planted; she remembered all
about it, and now the bush came up to the sitting-room window.
She seemed to have heard him tell that the town of Quincy, where
the granite came from, was named from them, and she never quite
recollected why, except they were so hard, as hard as stone, and it
took you almost the whole day to stew them, and then you might
as well set them on again.
Mr. Peterkin was glad to be reminded of the old place at
grandfather's. In order to know thoroughly about apples, they
ought to understand the making of cider.
Now, they might some time drive up to grandfather's, scarcely
twelve miles away, and see the cider made. Why, indeed, should
not the family go this very day up to grandfather's, and continue
the education of the breakfast?
"Why not indeed?" exclaimed the little boys. A day at grandfather's
would give them the whole process of the apple, from the orchard
to the cider-mill.
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