  On the mountain peak, called “Going-To-The-Sun,” I saw old Johnny Appleseed once more. He ate an apple, threw away the core. Then turned and smiled and slackly watched it fall Into a crevice of the mountain wall. In an instant there was an apple tree, The roots split up the rocks beneath our feet, And apples rolled down the green mountainside And fairies popped from them, flying and free! And |
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