The new growth on the trees
ripened thoroughly last fall, and the frost since has been gradual and
steady. I've known peach-buds to survive fifteen below zero; but there's
always danger in weather like this. We shall know what the prospects are
after the buds thaw out."
"How will that be possible?" Amy asked, in surprise.
"Now, Webb, is your chance to shine," cried Burtis. "Hitherto, Amy, the
oracle has usually been dumb, but you may become a priestess who will
evoke untold stores of wisdom."
Webb flushed slightly, but again proved that his brother's banter had
little influence.
"If you are willing to wait a few days," he said, with a smile, "I can
make clear to you, by the aid of a microscope, what father means, much
better than I can explain. I can then show you the fruit germs either
perfect or blackened by the frost."
"I'll wait, and remind you of your promise, too. I don't know nearly as
much about the country as a butterfly or a bird, but should be quite as
unhappy as they were I condemned to city life. So you must not laugh at
me if I ask no end of questions, and try to put my finger into some of
your horticultural pies."
His pleased look contained all the assurance she needed, and he resumed,
speaking generally: "The true places for raising peaches--indeed, all the
stone-fruits--successfully in this region are the plateaus and slopes of
the mountains beyond us. At their height the mercury never falls as low
as it does with us, and when we have not a peach or cherry I have found
such trees as existed high up among the hills well laden.
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