"Don't other men plant orchards?"
"No. They have not time, or seed. They plant bread. He does nothing but plant orchards."
"He must have a great many."
"They are not for himself. The apples are for any one who may pass by when they are ripe. He wants to give apples to everybody. Animals often nibble the bark, or break down his young trees. It takes long for them to grow. But he keeps on planting."
"If other men have no seeds to plant, how does he get them?"
"He makes journeys to the old settlements, where many orchards have grown, and brings the seeds from ciderpresses. He carries them from Pennsylvania on his back, in leather bags, a bag for each kind of seed."
"Doesn't he ever sell them?"
"Not often. Johnny Appleseed cares nothing for money. I believe he is under a vow of poverty. No one laughs at him. The tribes on these grounds would not hurt a hair of his head, not only because God has touched him, but because he plants apples. I have eaten his apples myself."
"Johnny Appleseed!" I repeated, and Skenedonk hastened to tell me:
"He has another name, but I forget it. He is called Johnny Appleseed."