Wild Apples | Page 5

the prairies; for when man migrates he carries with him not only his birds,
quadrupeds, insects, vegetables, and his very sward, but his orchard also.
The leaves and tender twigs are an agreeable food to many domestic animals, as the cow,
horse, sheep, and goat; and the fruit is sought after by the first, as well as by the hog.
Thus there appears to have existed a natural alliance between these animals and this tree
from the first. "The fruit of the Crab in the forests of France" is said to be "a great
resource for the wild boar."
Not only the Indian, but many indigenous insects, birds, and quadrupeds, welcomed the
apple-tree to these shores. The tent- caterpillar saddled her eggs on the very first twig that
was formed, and it has since shared her affections with the wild cherry; and the
canker-worm also in a measure abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it grew apace, the
bluebird, robin, cherry-bird, king-bird, and many more, came with haste and built their
nests and warbled in its boughs, and so became orchard-birds, and multiplied more than
ever. It was an era in the history of their race. The downy woodpecker found such a
savory morsel under its bark, that he perforated it in a ring quite round the tree before be
left it,--a thing which he had never done before, to my knowledge. It did not take the
partridge long to find out how sweet its buds were, and every winter eve she flew, and
still flies, from the wood, to pluck them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too,
was not slow to learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the fruit was ripe, the
squirrel half- rolled, half-carried it to his hole; and even the musquash crept up the bank
from the brook at evening, and greedily devoured it, until he had worn a path in the grass
there; and when it was frozen and thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste it
occasionally. The owl crept into the first apple-tree that became hollow, and fairly hooted
with delight, finding it just the place for him; so, settling down into it, he has remained
there ever since.
My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the seasons in the
annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to my special province.
The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree, so copious and so
delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is frequently tempted to turn and linger near
some more than usually handsome one, whose blossoms are two thirds expanded. How
superior it is in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither colored nor
fragrant!

By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of coddling, and of the
autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with little ones which fall still-born, as it
were,--Nature thus thinning them for us. The Roman writer Palladius said: "If apples are
inclined to fall before their time, a stone placed in a split root will retain them." Some
such notion, still surviving, may account for some of the stones which we see placed to
be overgrown in the forks of trees. They have a saying in Suffolk, England,--
"At Michaelmas time, or a little before, Half an apple goes to the core."
Early apples begin to be ripe about the first of August; but I think that none of them are
so good to eat as some to smell. One is worth more to scent your handkerchief with than
any perfume which they sell in the shops. The fragrance of some fruits is not to be
forgotten, along with that of flowers. Some gnarly apple which I pick up in the road
reminds me by its fragrance of all the wealth of Pomona, [Footnote: The Roman goddess
of fruit and fruit-trees.]-- carrying me forward to those days when they will be collected
in golden and ruddy heaps in the orchards and about the cider-mills.
A week or two later, as you are going by orchards or gardens, especially in the evenings,
you pass through a little region possessed by the fragrance of ripe apples, and thus enjoy
them without price, and without robbing anybody.
There is thus about all natural products a certain volatile and ethereal quality which
represents their highest value, and which cannot be vulgarized, or bought and sold. No
mortal has ever enjoyed the perfect flavor of any fruit, and only the godlike among men
begin to taste its ambrosial qualities. For nectar and ambrosia are only those fine flavors
of every earthly fruit which our coarse palates fail to perceive,--just as we