When the sap is first turned on it at once runs through the entire passage-way, and covers the bottom of the pan. Thenceforward it enters slowly, and is heated gradually in the rear compartments, while the boiling is confined to the front portion of the pan.

The density of this boiling portion of the liquid is constantly increased by evaporation; and the fresh sap, instead of mixing intimately with the boiling mass, acts as a pressure in the rear, forcing it steadily towards the front. Soon the different compartments of the evaporator present the saccharine fluid in all its phases, from fresh, cool sap, through warm, hot, and boiling, then partially concentrated, then thin syrup, then thicker, and, if the process be long enough continued, even down to sugar. It is customary, however, to draw it off through another faucet in front when it has reached the consistency of syrup.

In the smaller orchards, the sap is usually gathered in pails and brought directly to the central reservoir. For this purpose a sap-yoke is borne on the shoulders, with a large pail suspended from each end. In larger orchards, where the ground is not too rough, a barrel or hogshead is fastened upon a sled and drawn through the sugar-place by a yoke of oxen; or, if the ground slopes regularly, a system of spouts or pipes is sometimes arranged to bring the sap from convenient stations to the boiling-place.

It is roughly estimated that four gallons of sap will make one pound of sugar. But the sap varies greatly in sweetness, not only in different seasons, but in different parts of the same season, and in different trees at the same time. As a general rule, large and widely-branching trees produce sweeter sap than small and gnarled ones, as well as a much larger quantity. The first sap of the season is always the sweetest, and of the most delicate flavor, while late runs are of poorer quality, and have a "buddy" and bitter taste.

A drink from the buckets is considered a great treat at first, and, though it soon loses the charm of novelty, is always healthy and refreshing, and is the common drink of the sugar-camp during the entire season.

Sometimes, when the buckets are nearly full, there comes a cold snap, and the sap is turned to ice. But, however hard it may have frozen, there is always a central portion, small if the ice is thick, larger if thin, which is liquid still. This is pure, concentrated sweetness, maple honey unalloyed, though it never finds its way into the market.

So far all has been hard work, but now comes the boiling, and here the poetry of sugar-making begins.

In those old days,—the halcyon days of youth,—after the sap was gathered, and the fuel piled high beside the arch, then it was that we sat down by the blazing fire and watched it burn; heaped on the logs, filled up the kettle, and again sat down to muse, or talk, or read. If the wind whistled afar, the boiling-place was in a sheltered nook; if the rain poured down, or the snow-flakes fell without, we were protected by the sugar-house or shed; if the day was cold the fire was warm; and the heart of a youth is never cold.

When the weather was fine, and the sap running fast, it was often necessary to spend a good part of the night in boiling sap. Instead of feeling this a burden, here we found our pleasures but intensified. How the bright blaze chased the dim shadows far back into the woods, and the black smoke rolled up in great clouds to the sky! How sweet and warm and refreshing was the sap as it grew more and more concentrated! And how welcome were the neighbors' boys when they came to share with us the midnight watch! There was many a thrilling story told, many a sprightly joke was cracked, or lively game of euchre played. And when the war-cloud gathered in the Southern horizon, it was there we talked of the latest news, and registered our patriotic vows.

When pans are used for boiling, the last thing before the work of the day is done is "syruping down." When the sap is all boiled in, and the product has attained a sufficient degree of concentration,—nearly equal to that of the "maple syrup" of the markets,—the fire is suffered to go down, the pan is drawn off, the syrup dipped out and strained through a flannel cloth, and stored away in pails or tin cans to await the final process of "sugaring off."