Perhaps the reason
was that as a child I had frequently ridden over the plank road from
Henrietta to Rochester, and my memory recalled distinctly but three
objects on that road,--the house of Frederick Douglass, Mount Hope
Cemetery, and a nursery of young trees. Everything else was obscure. I
fancy that in fifty years the Douglass house has disappeared, but Mount
Hope Cemetery and the tree nursery seem to mock at time. The soil and
climate near Rochester are especially favorable to the growing of young
trees, and my order went to one of the many reliable firms engaged in
this business. The order was for thirty-four hundred
trees,--twenty-seven hundred for the forty-acre orchard and seven
hundred for the ten acres farthest to the south on the home lot. Polly
had consented to this invasion of her domain, for reasons. She said:--
"It is a long way off, rather flat and uninteresting, and I do not see
exactly how to treat it. Apple trees are pretty at most times, and
picturesque when old. You can put them there, if you will seed the
ground and treat it as part of the lawn.
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