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Updated: May 20, 2025
It is reaching out long arms to pick its own pink skirts daintily up and provoke us to admiration." "Those Yellow Duchess trees always bear well," said Marilla complacently. "That tree'll be loaded this year. I'm real glad. . . they're great for pies." But neither Marilla nor Anne nor anybody else was fated to make pies out of Yellow Duchess apples that year.
He ain't thinkin' about killin's. Nope, he's thinkin' about some quiet place for sleep. I know the place. They's a spring that come out in a holler between two mountains; and the wind blows up the valley all the year; and they's a tree that stands over the spring. That's where I'll put him. He loved the sound of runnin' water; and the wind'll be on his face; and the tree'll sort of mark the place.
"It belonged to the big dredge," Pee-wee said excitedly. "I knew all the men on that dredge; I used to hang out on that dredge; those men were all friends of mine. We wouldn't be trespassing except your land is in the way." "If you want us to shovel the land out of here we'll do it," suggested Roly Poly. "Then the tree'll fall over," said Brownie.
"There's sometimes a good hearty tree growin' right out of the bare rock, out o' some crack that just holds the roots;" she went on to say, "right on the pitch o' one o' them bare stony hills where you can't seem to see a wheel-barrowful o' good earth in a place, but that tree'll keep a green top in the driest summer.
I'm afraid ter let go the branch, for I'll sink, and if I try ter pull myself up by it, the whole blamed tree'll come down onter me. Ye see how it's toppling?" It was true that the fallen tree was in a very precarious position. When Toby stirred at all, the small weight he rested on the branch made the head of the tree dip perilously.
"Men," he shouted, "we kain't handily blame her she's a woman, an' I honours her fer bein' tenderhearted, but any other tree'll do jest as well! He kain't hev got fur off yit. Scatter out an' rake ther woods." She saw them piling over the fence like a pack of human hounds, and she shuddered. The last man carried the rope, which he had paused to pull from the limb.
This island is as solid as a pancake; I don't understand it. By all the rules of the game there shouldn't be anything left here but the tree by this evening. There doesn't seem to be any process of erosion." "What will we do If the island washes away from under us?" asked the boy they called Brownie. "The tree'll fall over sideways, won't it?
One is by havin' a lot more give in the fibers, more elastic like, so that the tree'll bend in the wind an' not get snapped off; another is by puttin' out a lot o' roots an' shovin' 'em in deep an' at the same time havin' a trunk that's plenty stout; an' the third is the thickenin' o' the trunk, right near the ground, where the greatest part o' the strain comes.
Two feet above the crotch the branches were connected, each to the ones on both sides, by braces of living wood. "You think it growed that way, eh? Well, it did. But it was old Silva that made it just the same caught two sprouts, when the tree was young, an' twisted 'em together. Pretty slick, eh? You bet. That tree'll never blow down. It's a natural, springy brace, an' beats iron braces stiff.
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