There was a dusky , little , pear-shaped apple -- from one of Uncle Stephen 's trees -- which was our favourite ; and next to it a delicious , juicy yellow apple from Aunt Louisa 's tree . We were also fond of the big sweet apples ; we used to throw them up in the air and let them fall on the ground until they were bruised and battered to the bursting point . Then we sucked on the juice ; sweeter was it than the nectar drunk by blissful gods on the Thessalian hill . Sometimes we worked until the cold yellow sunsets faded out over the darkening distances , and the hunter 's moon looked down on us through the sparkling air . The constellations of autumn scintillated above us . Peter and the Story Girl knew all about them , and imparted their knowledge to us generously . I recall Peter standing on the Pulpit Stone , one night ere moonrise , and pointing them out to us , occasionally having a difference of opinion with the Story Girl over the name of some particular star . Job 's Coffin and the Northern Cross were to the west of us ; south of us flamed Fomalhaut . The Great Square of Pegasus was over our heads . Cassiopeia sat enthroned in her beautiful chair in the north-east ; and north of us the Dippers swung untiringly around the Pole Star . Cecily and Felix were the only ones who could distinguish the double star in the handle of the Big Dipper , and greatly did they plume themselves thereon . The Story Girl told us the myths and legends woven around these immemorial clusters , her very voice taking on a clear , remote , starry sound as she talked of them . When she ceased , we came back to earth , feeling as if we had been millions of miles away in the blue ether , and that all our old familiar surroundings were momentarily forgotten and strange . That night when he pointed out the stars to us from the Pulpit Stone was the last time for several weeks that Peter shared our toil and pastime . The next day he complained of headache and sore throat , and seemed to prefer lying on Aunt Olivia 's kitchen sofa to doing any work . As it was not in Peter to be a malingerer he was left in peace , while we picked apples . Felix alone , must unjustly and spitefully , declared that Peter was simply shirking . `` He 's just lazy , that 's what 's the matter with him , '' he said . `` Why do n't you talk sense , if you must talk ? '' said Felicity .
`` There 's no sense XXXXX calling Peter lazy .
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