60 THOREA U&amp;gt; 



have ever seen before, small yellow apples hanging 

 over the road. The branches were gracefully droop 

 ing with their weight, like a barberry-bush, so that 

 the whole tree acquired a new character. Even the 

 topmost branches, instead of standing erect, spread 

 and drooped in all directions ; and there were so many 

 poles supporting the lower ones, that they looked like 

 pictures of banian-trees. As an old English manu 

 script says, &quot;The mo appelen the tree bereth the more 

 sche boweth to the folk.&quot; 



Surely the apple is the noblest of fruits. Let the 

 most beautiful or the swiftest have it. That should 

 ^be the &quot; going &quot; price of apples. 



Between the fifth and twentieth of October I see 

 the barrels lie under the trees. And perhaps I talk 

 with one who is selecting some choice barrels to fulfil 

 an order. He turns a specked one over many times 

 before he leaves it out. If I were to tell what is 

 passing in my mind, I should say that every one was 

 specked which he had handled; for he rubs off all 

 the bloom, and those fugacious ethereal qualities leave 

 it. Cool evenings prompt the farmers to make haste, 

 and at length I see only the ladders here and there 

 left leaning against the trees. 



It would be well if we accepted these gifts with 

 more joy and gratitude, and did not think it enough 

 simply to put a fresh load of compost about the tree. 

 Some old English customs are suggestive at least. I 

 find them described chiefly in Brand s &quot; Popular An 

 tiquities.&quot; It appears that &quot;on Christmas eve the 

 farmers and their men in Devonshire take a large 

 bowl of cider, with a toast in it, and carrying it in 

 state to the orchard, they salute the apple-trees with 

 much ceremony, in order to make them bear well the 



