28 THE APPLE. 
the fence, turning acid into sugar, and sugar inte 
wine ! 
How pleasing to the touch! I love to stroke its 
polished rondure with my hand, to carry it in my 
pocket on my tramp over the winter hills, or through 
the early spring woods. You are compaiy, you red- 
cheeked spitz, or you salmon-fleshed greening! L,toy 
with you; press your face to mine, toss you in the air, 
roll you on the ground, see you shine out where you 
lie amid the moss and dry leaves and sticks. You are 
so alive! You glow like a ruddy flower. You look 
so animated I almost expect to see you move. I 
postpone the eating of you, you are so beautiful! 
How compact; how exquisitely tinted! Stained by 
the sun and varnished against the rains. An inde- 
pendent vegetable existence, alive and vascular as my 
own flesh ; capable of being wounded, bleeding, wast- 
ing away, or almost repairing damages! 
How they resist the cold! holding out almost as 
Jong as the red cheeks of the boys do. A frost that 
destroys the potatoes and other roots only makes the 
upple more crisp and vigorous; they peep out from 
the chance November snows unscathed. When I see 
the fruit-vender on the street corner stamping his feet 
and beating his hands to keep them warm, and his 
naked apples lying exposed to the blasts, I wonder if 
they do not ache too to clap their hands and enliven 
their circulation. But they can stand it nearly as long 
as the vender can. 
Noble common fruit, best friend of man and most 
loved by him, following him like his dog or his cow, 
wherever he goes. His homestead is not planted till - 
you are planted, your roots intertwine with his ; thriv- 
ing best where he thrives best, loving the limestone 
————-—<—-  . 
