length the trees are tapped, the spouts and nails are driven, the buckets are set, and all is ready for the sap.

I remember once to have seen in an illustrated magazine a picture, one of a series intended to represent the process of sugar-making, in which the spouts were several feet in length, and the sap poured out in a rushing stream, as though each spout were a hose-pipe, and every tree a water-main. To carry out the idea, it would have required a man to stand at every tree and empty the rapidly filling buckets into a monster hogshead.

Not thus lavishly is this nectar of the gods poured out on our New England hills; but slowly, filtered through the closely wrought fibres of the acer saccharinum, absorbing new sweetness, and gaining a more delicate flavor at each step of its progress, until at last it falls drop by drop into the bucket. This is rarely filled in less than twenty-four hours, while three or four bucketfuls is an average yield for a season, and six a large one.

BOILING DOWN.

Next the sugar-house is put in order, the arch is mended, the kettle or pan washed out, and all necessary preparations are made for boiling. The earliest method of boiling sap of which I have any recollection was in a huge caldron kettle suspended from a heavy pole, which was supported at each end by the limb of a tree or on top of a post. Then a huge log was rolled up to each side of the kettle, and the fire was built between them. This was known simply as the "boiling-place," and could be changed as often as convenient. The kettle which contained the sap was also open for the reception of the dust, and smoke, and falling leaves, and forms of dirt innumerable.

The first advance on this primitive method was made by building a rough arch of stone around the kettle to retain the heat and economize fuel. Next a rectangular pan of sheet-iron was substituted for the kettle, and a shed or rude house was built around the arch. The process of improvement has continued, until to-day in most of the larger orchards can be found neat and convenient sugar-houses, with closely-built arches of brick; while in place of the ancient caldron kettle, or the still much-used sap-pan, it is common to find the modern evaporator.

There are several patterns of evaporators in use. The most common one consists of a pan of from twelve to sixteen feet in length and four or five in width, divided into compartments by a series of partitions which run nearly across the pan, at intervals of six or eight inches, but at alternate ends stop three or four inches short of the side. Thus all the compartments are connected with each other in such a manner as to form one winding passage-way.

Back of the arch, and at one corner, stands a large hogshead containing sap, with a faucet at the bottom, and a small tube opening into the rear compartment of the evaporator. This tube has a self-acting valve, which closes when the sap has reached the proper height in the pan, and opens again when it has been lowered by boiling.

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."

This event takes place after a few days of boiling, when the syrup has accumulated in sufficient quantities; and, as it presents the first fruits of the harvest, is usually made the occasion of a sugar-party. Now, the maple sugar-party is a New