144 
‘*The apple still holds its place in the customs of many nations; always the 
emblem of fertility, and usually the symbol of happiness. It is oracular in love 
matters—an omen of love, a love-charm, or a token of affection. Auguries are 
to be drawn from a cutting of an apple in half, the number of its pips, throwing 
the peel over the shoulder, sleeping with an apple—or a half of one—under the 
pillow, when a lover brings the other half, etc. If the tree blossoms out of season, 
it betokens joy, or some unlooked-for sorrow, as the wit of the observer is enabled 
to solve the enigma; and a present of apples is ofttimes the symbol of a matri- 
monial proposal. In some countries, it may also be added, it has been the custom 
to place an apple in the hand of a child when buried, that it may have it to play 
with in Paradise.” 
The freak of nature herein alluded to is by no means uncommon, as we have 
each year, for many years, seen blossoms with fruit, as we did on some apple trees 
six weeks ago; the blossomed sprays being as beautiful as one sees in May, though 
the apples close by them were being picked for cooking. 
Apples were formerly used as ‘* pomanders,” and we have the term in Shakes- 
peare, and in Drayton too, as being worn ‘‘ against infectious damps;” whilst 
Bacon says ‘‘they have in physick use of pomanders and knots of powders for dry- 
ing of rheums;” and in his Vew Atlantis is this further passage, which clearly 
points to the apple: ‘‘The notary came aboard, holding in his hand a fruit like 
an orange, but of colour between orange-tawny and scarlet, which cast a most 
excellent odour, and is used for preservative against infection.” Soon after. 
oranges came into England, and they were first grown at Beddington by Sir 
Francis Carew. The fashion changed, however, from apples pure and simple to 
oranges hollowed and filled with spices, or with a sponge ‘‘ whereon was vinegar 
and other confections against the pestilent airs;” and the former mode is historical, 
as an orange, stuck full of cloves, was taken from the pocket of King Charles I. 
by his executioner, Richard Brandon. The latter mode, too, we read in history 
was adopted by Cardinal Wolsey ; ‘‘the which,” says Cavendish, ‘‘ he commonly 
sinelt into, passing among the press.” These orange pomanders—as were the apple 
ones previously—are shown in the portraits of that period as being held in the 
hand ; and an orange stuck with cloves was a common present, the superstition 
connected with it being probably due to that ancient notion of the Egyptians, that 
a citron eaten in the morning was a certain antidote against all kinds of poison. 
Next to raw potatoes, there is certainly no better preventative to scurvy than 
good raw apples. Hence the captains of ships would do well to carry them, and 
especially so, as if they do not, as is claimed for them, prevent sea-sickness, they 
assuredly lessen the evil. It is often the only food a sick stomach will take ; it is 
a welcome fruit to many. Passengers from New York to Liverpool are awake to 
this fact, and gladly partake of the excellent apples on board. In fact, the apple 
is the healthiest fruit we have, and though those who claim for it the cause for 
direct brain power are certainly far ahead of their time—‘“‘ for vigorous thinking,” 
the phrase is, ‘‘ eat plenty of apples ’’—still, there is more benefit to be gained by 
the consumption of this fruit than many men would believe, and it is good alike 
cooked or raw. 
