So I set to on a little detective work of my own, knowin', of course, that 't wa'n't no use askin' of him himself.

Well, an' what do you s'pose I found out?
If that little scamp of a boy hadn't even got round him--Streeter, the skinflint! He had--an' he went there often, the neighbors said; an' Streeter doted on him.

They declared that actually he give him a cent once--though THAT part I ain't swallerin' yet.
"They said--the neighbors did--that it all started from the pear tree--that big one ter the left of his house.

Maybe you remember it.
Well, anyhow, it seems that it's old, an' through bearin' any fruit, though it still blossoms fit ter kill, every year, only a little late 'most always, an' the blossoms stay on longer'n common, as if they knew there wa'n't nothin' doin' later.

Well, old Streeter said it had got ter come down.