age the sapling had grown into a fine tree. Its branches spread wide and
high, and bees came from all parts to gather their honey-harvests among
the flowers; beneath its shade lambkins were wont in spring to sleep
beside their dams; and when the time of shearing came, and the sheep
were disburdened of their fleeces, you might see them hastening to the
sycamore tree for shelter.

"'A kind of rustic festival was held about the same time in honor of the
maple-wine. Hither came the farmer and his dame, with their children and
young neighbors, each carrying bunches of flowers. Older people came in
their holiday dresses, some with baskets containing cakes, others tea
and sugar, with which the farmer and his wife had plentifully supplied
them; and joyfully did they rest a while on the green sward while young
men gathered sticks, and, a bright fire having been kindled, the kettle
sent up its bubbling steam.

"'When this was ended, and few of the piled-up cakes remained--when,
also, the young children had emptied their cans and rinsed them at the
old stone trough into which rushed a full stream--tiny hands joyfully
held up the small cans and bright eyes looked anxiously to the stem of
the tall tree while the farmer warily cut an incision in the bark.

"'What joy when a sweet watery juice began to trickle! and the farmer
filled one small cup, then another, till all were satisfied and a
portion sent to the older people, who were contentedly looking on from
the grassy slope where they had seated themselves. The farmer's wife
knew naught concerning the process for obtaining sugar, or else she
might have sweetened her children's puddings from the watery liquid
yielded by the sycamore, or greater maple--an art well known to the
aboriginal tribes of North America.'"