As he trudged along one day, he saw some old sacks lying under a tree. As he looked at them he had a splendid thought. A thought that seemed to have wings, and came flying from far away. Oh, it was a beautiful thought, and seemed to be singing a little song in his heart, as he picked up the sacks and placed them in his boat, jumped in himself and floated away.
As he rowed down the stream, the man watched the shore with keen eyes. When he saw an apple orchard he rowed to land, tied his boat, hastened to the homes near the orchards and asked for work.
He cut wood, carried water, and did all sorts of odd chores. In payment for this work he asked for food, and what else do you suppose?
The people were so surprised at what he asked for they could hardly believe him. He asked that he might have the seeds from the apples on the ground under the trees—only the seeds.
Of course they gladly gave him such a simple thing, and as he cut the fruit the neighbour children swarmed about him.
From one place to another he went, always adding to his store of seeds.
Some generous farmers gave him also cuttings of peach, pear, and plum trees, and grape vines.
Day after day, day after day, he cut up the fruit, while the children sat at his feet, and listened to thrilling tales of what he had seen in his travels. Of the Indians with their gay blankets and feathers, of their camps where they lived in the forests.
Of their dances and war paint; their many-coloured, beaded necklaces and jingling, silver chains and bracelets. Of their beady-eyed babies strapped to boards.
Of the wolves which came out at night to watch him as he sat by his fire; of the beautiful deer who ran across his patch.