Dried Apples by James McIntyre — Read

Lines suggested by examining the fruit evaporator at Mt. Elgin.

We fear to say, and yet we must, / Dried apples once were full of dust, / And you all know it is no joke.

Saturate with tobacco smoke, / And the hole where string did go through / Was nest for animalcule, / And collected the kitchen steam.

But process now is sweet and clean, / Viewed with pleasure by spectator, / Work of the evaporator.