THE APPLE. 33 
The genuine apple-eater comforts himself with an 
apple in their season as others with a pipe or cigar. 
When he has nothing else to do, or is bored, he eats 
an apple. While he is waiting for the train he eats 
an apple, sometimes several of them. When he takes 
a walk he arms himself with apples. His traveling 
bag is full of apples. He offers an apple to his com- 
panion, and takes one himself. They are his chief 
solace when on the road. He sows their seed all along 
the route. He tosses the core from the car-window 
and from the top of the stage-coach. He would, in 
time, make the land one vast orchard. He dispenses 
with a knife. He prefers that his teeth shall have the 
first taste. Then he knows the best flavor is imme- 
diately beneath the skin, and that in a pared apple 
this is lost. If you will stew the apple, he says, in- 
stead of baking it, by all means leave the skin on. It 
improves the color and vastly heightens the flavor of 
the dish. : 
The apple is a masculine fruit; hence women are 
poor apple-eaters. It belongs to the open air, and 
requires an open-air taste and relish. 
I instantly sympathized with that clergyman I read 
of, who on pulling out his pocket-handkerchief in the 
midst of his discourse, pulled out two bouncing apples 
with it that went rolling across the pulpit floor and 
down the pulpit stairs. These apples were, no doubt, 
to be eaten after the sermon on his way home, or to 
his next appointment. They would take the taste of 
it out of his mouth. Then, would a minister be apt 
to grow tiresome with two big apples in his coat-tail 
pockets? Would he not naturally hasten along to 
“lastly,” and the big apples? If they were the dom- 
inie apples, and it was April or May, he certainly 
would. 
