WILD FRUITS 235 



(to whose genus they belong) hi their narrow bogs 

 on Kinder Scout or Pen-y-ghent. In Scotland 

 they call it Avrons, and for some reason it tastes 

 sweeter under that name. 



A wild fruit of the heather tribe that science 

 has labelled for the eye only is the arbutus, 

 Arbutus unedo. Who can think of it without 

 thinking of Killarney, where the twisted red trunks 

 with umbrellas of foliage each of a different olive 

 or golden-green capture the eye and the heart 

 far more than the mere configuration of Irish 

 lakeland ? 



A whiff from the drawer reminds me of one 

 other member of the Ericaceae, the dainty little 

 winter-green. It grows only in certain beech- 

 woods of sufficient antiquity to be worthy of so 

 fastidious a flower. There it comes up abundantly. 

 From a rosette of leaves, just like those of the 

 pear, whence the plant gets its botanic name of 

 Pyrola, it sends up a spike of blossom very like 

 the lily of the valley, so that the children commonly 

 call it summer lily of the valley. It is a tiny 

 phial of oil of winter-green that gives me the 

 whiff from the drawer. No cork will suppress it. 

 When I go to handle the bees I rub a spot into 

 the back of each hand, and no bee offers to sting. 

 No bee of mine, not one bee in ten thousand 

 million has seen the winter-green in blossom. 

 What is the message of the essence of winter-green 

 to the bee that turns its murderous hum into 

 amiability ? 



