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AUNT GRENERTSEN’S APPLES 67
"Well. We’ll just have to shake them off."
"Yes, we must; but shake gently." Three
much crushed and two that were bruised
slightly, with, of course, a number of decayed
ones that did not count.
"These two we’ll lay on the steps."
Strangely enough, there were almost no
apples left on the tree now, except those on a
very slender branch. They would have to be
shaken down, for no person alive could reach
them. Violent shaking ensued and apples
pelted down in a shower, every one landing
with a thud that bruised or marred it somewhere.
The boys gathered them hurriedly and deposited
them under a gooseberry bush.
True as you live, there were no more apples
on the tree! It was remarkable how little time
it had taken to strip it. And on the steps
lay only eight apples, and two of them were
bruised! What would Aunt Grenertsen say at
getting so few? Well, he must take them in to
her.
"Here are the apples, Aunt Grenertsen.
Aren’t they beauties?"
"And where are the rest?"
"Why — these are all."
"From the whole tree? Eight apples?"
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