It was explained to him that they were pickled peaches, and that it
was the custom of the house to have them on the table at supper. He
tried one with his cold mutton, and was presently assuring my parents
that never in his life had he partaken of anything so good - so tasty,
so appetizing, and whether or not it was because of the pickled
peaches, or some quality in our mutton which made it unlike all other
mutton, he had never enjoyed a meal as much. What he wanted to know
was how the thing was done. He was told that large, sound fruit, just
ripening, must be selected for pickling; when the finger dents a peach
it is too ripe. The selected peaches are washed and dried and put into
a cask, then boiling vinegar, with a handful of cloves is poured in
till it covers the fruit, the cask closed and left for a couple of
months, by which time the fruit would be properly pickled. Two or
three casks-full were prepared in this way each season and served us
for the entire year.
It was a revelation, he said, and lamented that he and his people had
not this secret before. He, too, had a peach orchard, and when the
fruit ripened his family, assisted by all their neighbours, feasted
from morning till night on peaches, and hardly left room in their
stomachs for roast meat when it was dinner-time.
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