nd threads that proved very
decorative, but quite as unapproachable as Aunt Clay herself.

"It is a splendid apple year," remarked Mrs. Brown, her eyes wandering
over the bountifully laden trees. "Do you know, Edwin, I believe you
will realize enough off your wine saps and pippins to pay for all your
furniture!"

"It is all paid for, thank goodness!" laughed the young man. "But the
apple money is to be put in the bank in Molly's account."

"You remember when I went to college, Mother, you said I must win the
three golden apples. Don't you think apple money in the bank is a golden
apple?"

"Yes, my child, perhaps it is; but happiness is a bigger and more golden
apple than money in the bank, and I believe you have gained happiness."

"Indeed I have," said Molly blushing. "And now I am going to make a pie
for my own husband; out of my own apples; off my own tree; in my own
kitchen; with my own hands; and before I go, I am going to hug the old
man who bought the orchard so I could go on with my college education."

This time Edwin did not "bow his head and wait 'til the storm passed
over him" as he had, according to Molly, in years gone by; but he drew
her down on the arm of his chair, and the making of the famous pie had
to be postponed.

The pie was finally made, though, and an extra one to send over to
Mother. Aunt Mary declared it was the "bestest I ever set gum in. I
uster have a sweet tooth, but now I ain't got nothin' but a sweet gum;
but my Molly Baby kin make sich good crus' th' ain't no need to chaw
none."

The old woman had been rather scornful of the method of making pastry
that Molly had learned from the domestic science teacher at Wellington,
but when the pie turned out such a success she was converted.

"Yo' teacher is sho' done drawd a prize cook. The two things what men
folks think the mos' of is the gal's outsides an' they own insides. The
gal's outsides is goin' to change an' fade; but ef she's got sense 'nuf
ter keep on a caterin' ter his insides, the man ain't a gwine ter notice
the change. Ain't that the truf?" she asked Edwin as he came into the
kitchen hunting his Molly.

"You know best, Aunt Mary. Certainly this pie would hide a multitude of
wrinkles and even gray hair. But now, Aunt Mary, can't you persuade my
wife to leave the kitchen long enough to come take a little walk with
me?"

"Go long with him, chile. I reckon I can keep the bungleboo from flyin'
off while you an' yo' teacher