“How pretty they must be!” said Clara.  “I should like to see one.”

“I think that I can make one when I get a large nut, and I shall be glad to show you how it is done.”

This was a delightful prospect, and the children volunteered to save for that especial purpose all the large nuts they could find.

“The English walnut tree,” continued Miss Harson, “is a native of Persia or the North of China, and the long pinnated leaves seem to mark its Oriental origin; but it has taken very kindly to its European home.  In some parts of Germany the walnut trees were considered to be such a valuable possession that no young man was allowed to marry until he owned a certain number; and if one tree was cut down, another was always planted.”

“Don’t they grow in this country?” asked Malcolm.

“Not very often in our more northern States,” was the reply, “for the climate here is too cold for them; but at a house where I visited there was an English walnut tree in the garden, and it seemed to do very well.  The nuts were always gathered while they were green, and made into pickles.”

This was considered quite dreadful, for ripe nuts were certainly a great deal better than pickles.

“But there was a great deal of uncertainty about having the ripe nuts, for there were bad boys all around who would not have hesitated to rob the tree.  Besides, pickled walnuts are considered a great delicacy by those who eat such things.  There are some other ways, too, of using the nuts, which you would not like any better.  One of these is to make them into oil, as the people do in the South of Europe; this oil is used to burn in their lamps and as an article of food.  ’In Piedmont, among the light-hearted peasantry, cracking the walnuts and taking them from the shell is a holiday proceeding.  The peasants, with their wives and children, assemble in the evening, after their day’s work is over, in the kitchen of some chateau where the walnuts have been gathered, and where their services are required.  They sit round a table, and at each end is a man with a small mallet, who cracks the walnuts and passes them on; the rest of the party take them out of their shells.  At supper-time the table is cleared, and a repast of dried fruit, vegetables and wine is set out.  The remainder of the evening is spent in singing and dancing.  The crushing and pressing of the nuts, for oil, take place when the whole harvest is in.’”

“But don’t walnuts come from California?  Our grocer said he had California nuts,” remarked Malcolm.

“Yes; that wonderful country is beginning to supply us with English walnuts.”

“Are you going to tell us a story, Miss Harson?” asked Edith, hopefully.

“I have no story, dear,” was the reply, “but there is something here which you may like about birds stealing the nuts.”

Of course they would like this; for if there was to be no story, birds and stealing promised to furnish a good substitute.