Edith, however, was rather shocked.

“I thought it was wicked,” said she, “to cut off flowers from fruit trees?  Won’t these make apples?”

“Not them particular ones, Sis,” replied Mr. Grove, with a laugh; “they’re done for now.  But it ain’t wicked to cut off your own apple blows when there’s too many on the tree to make good apples, and there’s plenty to spare yet.”  He was very much amused at the little girl’s serious face over this wholesale destruction of infant apples, and he invited them all to come to the house and get a drink of fresh milk.  The children thought this a very pleasant invitation, and Miss Harson was quite willing to gratify them.

The farmer led his guests into a very cheerful and wonderfully clean kitchen, where Mrs. Groves was busy with her baking, and the loaves of fresh bread looked very inviting.  She was as pleasant and hospitable as her husband, and after shaking up a funny-looking patchwork cushion in a rocking-chair for the young lady to sit down on she told the little girls that she would get them a couple of crickets if they would wait a minute, and disappeared into the next room.

The two little sisters looked at each other in dismay and wondered what they could do with these insects, but before they could consult Miss Harson good Mrs. Grove had returned carrying in each hand a small flat footstool.  The girls sat down very carefully, for they were not accustomed to such low seats; but the whole party were tired with their walk and glad to rest for a short time.  Malcolm, being a boy, was expected to sit where he could, and he speedily established himself in the corner of a wooden settle.

In spite of the apple-blossoms, the kitchen fire was very comfortable; and, as the baking was just coming to an end, Mrs.

Grove said that “she would be ready to visit with them in a minute:”  she did not seem to allow herself more than a “minute” for anything.  Besides the milk, some very nice seed-cakes in the shape of hearts were produced, and Edith thought them the most delightful little cakes she had ever tasted.  Clara and Malcolm, too, were quite hungry, and Miss Harson enjoyed her glass of milk and seed-cake as well as did the young people.  The farmer and his wife seemed really sorry to part with their guests when they rose to go, but Miss Harson said that it was time for them to be at home, and the children were obedient on the instant.

“Well,” said the worthy couple, “you know now where to come when you want more apple-blows and a drink of milk.”

Malcolm was quite laden with the mass of rosy flowers which Mr. Grove piled up in his arms, and he enjoyed the delicious scent all the way home.

“I must get out the big jar,” said Miss Harson as she surveyed their treasures, “and there are so many buds that I think we may be able to keep them for some days.—­What would you say, Edith, if I told you that people cut off not only the blossoms, but even the fruit itself, while it is green, to make what is left on the tree handsomer and better?”