“Yes. After tapping. Uncle Ben used to tap these trees, I believe.”
“You mean for sap? Maple syrup?”
“Yes.”
“Jonathan! I didn’t know these were sugar maples.”
“Oh, yes. These on the road.”
“The whole row? Why, there are ten or fifteen of them! And you never told me!”
“I thought you knew.”
“Knew! I don’t know anything—I should think you’d know that, by this time. Do you suppose, if I had known, I should have let all these years go by—oh, dear—think of all the fun we’ve missed! And syrup!”
“You’d have to come up in February.”
“Well, then, I’ll come in February. Who’s afraid of February?”