A Bouquet of Song Birds 
Probably it is rather late in the day to seek 
a fresh extenuation of an offence said to have 
been committed in the oldest orchard known 
to history. But I feel that our great fallen 
progenitor—albeit he doubtless rose by falling 
—had considerable excuse, if it was an apple- 
tree around which he lingered, being so pre- 
eminently ‘‘ pleasant to the sight and good for 
food.’’ If it had been a forbidden plum or 
pear, we might have all escaped. Had his 
taste been otherwise, and he had limited his 
walks to the maple avenues of Paradise, who 
can measure its effect upon the world’s tragedy ? 
But time works its revenges. After the lapse 
of ages the tempting apple in its turn also fell, 
and from its fall Sir Isaac Newton plucked the 
formula of the universal law of gravitation. 
The attractiveness of the apple-tree’s earlier 
years is largely lost in its old age; its temper 
becomes tart, and its figure scraggly. Possibly 
we may see in this the faint and long-projected 
shadow of that ‘‘ primal eldest curse’’ pro- 
nounced upon all the participants, at the con- 
clusion of that fateful scene of yore. There is 
a rumor that the world’s moralizing began at 
an apple-tree, and we may as well let it end 
there. We shall get the most satisfaction out 
39 
