THE ORCHARD I have dreamed of accomplishment. I have fed ambition. I have traded nights of sleep for a length of work. Lo, and I have discovered how soft bloom turns to green fruit which turns to sweet fruit. Lo, and I have discovered all winds blow cold at last, and the leaves, so pretty, so many, vanish in the great, black packet of time, in the great, black packet of ambition, and the ripeness of the apple is its downfall.
