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The man laughed. “Even the Grand Canyon can’t keep a good, healthy appetite down for long, can it? I guess supper is pretty nearly ready now. But wait a minute—here is someone I want you to know.” “Yes, come in.” “Yes, but there is a lot more to forestry than that. I’d like to show you some day how modern logging is done.”.
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When his parents were finally ready to go, Johnny Blossom thought they would walk home as usual, but, true as you live, Carlstrom was waiting with the handsome black horses and the landau with the damask cushions—a much grander equipage than the one which had brought them to Kingthorpe. They had had the brown horses then. THAT apple tree of Aunt Grenertsen’s was too tantalizing! Big, beautiful apples hung there day after day, and nobody ever seemed to think of such a thing as taking one off. Aunt Grenertsen might, for instance, so easily say to old Katrina, her housemaid: “Shake down an apple or two for Johnny Blossom”; but no indeed! Far from it. Never in the world had she suggested anything of the kind, although he had been in there every single day since the apples had begun to turn. John looked triumphantly at Lisa and Olea. “Isn’t it my turn now, Johnny Blossom?”.
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