upon which more pulp was placed, and so on from layer to layer, until
the cheese was complete. Planks were then placed on the top, and the
pressure of the powerful wooden screw brought to bear on the mass. At
once a copious stream of cider began to flow into the casks or vat, and
here the fun began with the boys, who, well armed with long straws,
sucked their fill.

By the roadside stands the cider mill,
Where a lowland slumber waits the rill:

A great brown building, two stories high,
On the western hill face warm and dry;

And odorous piles of apples there
Fill with incense the golden air;

And masses of pomace, mixed with straw,
To their amber sweets the late flies draw.

The carts back up to the upper door,
And spill their treasures in on the floor;

Down through the toothed wheels they go
To the wide, deep cider press below.

And the screws are turned by slow degrees
Down on the straw-laid cider cheese;

And with each turn a fuller stream
Bursts from beneath the graning beam,