IN AN ENGLISH VILLAGE MANY YEARS AGO, there once lived a lady named Alice.  One day Alice decided that what she wanted more than anything else for that night's supper was a sweet, sizzling apple dumpling. She checked her pantry - sure enough, she had plenty of flour, plenty of butter, plenty of sugar and spices, enough to make a dozen dumplings.  Yet with a gasp Alice realized there was one thing she did not have - apples!

She had plums, a tree full of them in her backyard, the roundest and reddest plums you could imagine.  But though you can make butter from cream and you can make raisins from grapes, you cannot make an apple dumpling from plums and there's no use trying.

Still, Alice wanted that apple dumpling, and she wanted it for supper that very night.   Then she had an idea.  She took a basket to the backyard, filled it with plums from her plum tree, and covered it with a white cloth.  

Alice changed into her finest clothes, hung the basket on her arm and stepped outside, saying to herself, “There may be those in the world who have apples and who need plums.  We'll see if a trade can be had!"

She had not gone very far when she came to a yard filled with hens and geese squawking and running about. CA-ca, Quawk, QUAWK! What a racket! In the midst of the flock, a young woman was leaning over, feeding yellow corn to the birds. She nodded pleasantly to the Alice, and Alice nodded to her, and soon the two were talking as if they had known each other always.

The younger woman told the older woman about her birds and geese, and the older woman told the younger woman about the apple dumpling she yearned to have that night, and how she hoped to trade her basket of plums for apples.

"Those are lovely plums indeed," said the young woman with a sigh.  "And they remind me there's nothing my family likes better than plum jelly with goose for their dinner.  But unless you can accept a bag of feathers for your plums, they must do without, for that is the best I can offer you."

Trudge, trudge, up a hill and down.  Past a farm, past a brook.  As she turned a corner, a wonderfully sweet fragrance surrounded her. And it was clear why - jam-packed behind a garden gate was the sweetest mix of flowers that Alice had ever seen.

Yet in the middle of this garden of roses, lilies, peonies and lilacs, a man and a woman were arguing loudly.

"Cotton!" said the woman.

"Straw!" said the man.

'Tis not--"

"Tis!" they cried, and so it went between them, until they spied Alice at the gate.

“Here's someone who can settle the matter,” said the woman.  She called out to Alice, “Good mother, if you were making a cushion for your grandfather’s arm chair, would you not stuff it with cotton?”

“Cotton?  I do not think I would,” said Alice.

“I told you so!” cried the man. “Straw is the very thing.  And you need to go no farther than the barn for it.” 

But Alice shook her head.  “Nor would I stuff the cushion with straw.”

“Oh!” they said together, a bit confused. But Alice made haste to reach for the bag of feathers in her basket.

"I have something better," she said, handing them the feathers.  "A cushion made of FEATHERS will make the softest seat of all, one that's fit for a king!" They were indeed delighted, but Alice could tell they were worried about how to pay her, so she said. "As for me, apples would be just the thing.  But if you have no apples, a bouquet from your garden will serve just as well."

The man and the woman had no apples to give Alice, but were glad to exchange a bouquet for the feathers.  They cut one bloom from here, and another there, till there were more lovely flowers than their arms could hold.  Never was there a sweeter bunch of flowers!  They handed the armful to Alice.

Never was there a sweeter bunch of flowers!

“A good bargain," said Alice, "and not all of it in the basket.” For she was glad that the two young people were now happy with each other.  She wished them both well, and went on her way.

Soon Alice came upon a young lord, dressed in very fine clothes and with a gold chain around his neck.  But such a frown on his face!  He looked as if he had no friend left in the whole wide world.

Soon Alice came upon a young lord, dressed in very fine clothes and with a gold chain around his neck.

"A fair day and a good road," said the old woman, stopping to drop him a curtsey.

"Fair or not, good or not, it's all the same to me," said he, his head cast down. "The court jeweler did not finish the ring I gave him to make. And now I must go to my lady love with nothing in my hands to give her."

"Is that what's the matter?" said Alice.  "Then you shall have a gift for your lady!"  Alice handed him the bouquet of flowers from her basket.  "Though I may never have an apple dumpling!" The flowers made the lord so glad that he smiled from ear to ear.

The young lord said, “A fair trade is no robbery.”  He took the gold chain from around his neck and put it around Alice's neck.  He skipped away, holding the flowers to his chest.

“A gold chain!” cried Alice. “With this, I can buy all the apples in the King’s market and have shillings left to spare!” She hurried to town as fast as her feet could go.

She had gone no farther than the turn of the road when she came upon a mother and children standing in a doorway, whose faces were as sorrowful as her own was happy.

"A gold chain!" cried Alice.

"What is the matter?" she asked as soon as she reached them.

"Matter enough," answered the mother, "when the last crust of bread is eaten and not a coin in the house to buy more."

"Well-a-day," cried the old woman when this was told her. "Never shall it be said of me that I eat an apple dumpling for supper while my neighbors lack bread." She put the golden chain into the mother's hands and hurried on without waiting for thanks.

"Never let it be said of me that I eat an apple dumpling for supper while my neighbors lack bread."

She was not out of sight of the house, though, when the mother and children, every one of them laughing and talking merrily, overtook her.

"We have little to give you," said the mother who was the happiest of all, "for all that you have done for us.  But here is a little dog.  His barking will keep loneliness from your house and our thanks goes with it."

Alice did not have the heart to tell them no, so into the basket went the little dog, and very snugly he lay there, too.

“A basket of plums for a bag of feathers," Alice mused. "A bag of feathers for a bouquet of flowers.  A bouquet of flowers for a gold chain.  And a gold chain for a dog.  All the world is give and take, and who knows if I may have my apple dumpling yet,” said Alice as she hurried on.

Sure enough, our cheerful lady had not gone a half dozen yards when right before her eyes, she saw an apple tree as full of apples as her very own plum tree was full of plums. This tree grew in front of a house as much like her own as if they were two peas in the same pod.  On the porch of the house sat a little old man.

Right before her eyes, she saw an apple tree as full of apples as her very own plum tree was full of plums.

“That is a fine tree of apples you have!” said the old woman as soon as she was close enough to talk to him.

“Aye,” said the old man.  “But apple trees and apples are poor company when a man is growing old. I would give them all if I had even so much as a little dog to bark on my door-step.”

“Bow-wow,” barked the dog in the old woman’s basket.  And in less time than it takes to read the end of this story, the little dog was barking on the old man’s door-step.  And Alice was on her way home with a basket full of apples.

That night she baked herself a delicious apple dumpling, and ate it down to the very last crumb.  “If you try long enough and hard enough," said Alice, "you can always have an apple dumpling for supper."