THE WILD APPLE. 63 



Uninjured by the frosts, when all cultivated apples were 

 gathered. It was a rank wild growth, with many green 

 leaves on it still, and made an impression of thorni- 

 ness. The fruit was hard and green, but looked as if 

 it would be palatable in the winter. Some was dang 

 ling on the twigs, but more half-buried in the wet 

 leaves under the tree, or rolled far down the hill amid 

 the rocks. The owner knows nothing of it. The 

 day was not observed when it first blossomed, nor 

 when it first bore fruit, unless by the chickadee. 

 There was no dancing on the green beneath it in its 

 honor, and now there is no hand to pluck its fruit, 

 which is only gnawed by squirrels, as I perceive. It 

 has done double duty, not only borne this crop, but 

 each twig has grown a foot into the air. And this is 

 such fruit ! bigger than many berries, we must admit, 

 and carried home will be sound and palatable next 

 spring. What care I for Iduna s apples so long as I 

 can get these ? 



When I go by this shrub thus late and hardy, and 

 see its dangling fruit, I respect the tree, and I am 

 grateful for Nature s bounty, even though I cannot 

 eat it. Here on this rugged and woody hillside has 

 grown an apple-tree, not planted by man, no relic of 

 a former orchard, but a natural growth, like the pines 

 and oaks. Most fruits which we prize and use de 

 pend entirely on our care. Corn and grain, potatoes, 

 peaches, melons, etc., depend altogether on our plant 

 ing ; but the apple emulates man s independence and 

 enterprise. It is not simply carried, as I have said, 

 but, like him, to some extent, it has migrated to this 

 New World, and is even, here and there, making its 

 way amid the aboriginal trees ; just as the ox and 

 dog and horse sometimes run wild and maintain them 

 selves. 



