THE ORCHARD. 257 



I have noticed that those color best that have a full 

 exposure to the sun. The fruit that is concealed too 

 densely beneath the branches does not seem to have 

 quite the vigor; the cheeks lack the glow of that which 

 strings the outside twigs. It is said of the apples raised 

 mainly by means of irrigation that they are tasteless, 

 and lack the tang of ours that mature by a natural 

 rainfall. 



I like to cut into them, and to see what we used to 

 call the "blossom" still evident in the lines and interior 

 markings. Some apples are actually pink inside; some 

 are a snowy white; others are the more usual yellow, 

 or cream color, like the Russet. There is much differ- 

 ence, too, in the quality of the pulp, as well as of the 

 skin. Some are almost brittle to the teeth, and snap off 

 in flakes; some are soft and firm; still others are almost 

 mushy when ripe. Some have tough, big cores; some 

 have practically no cores at all. Some are racy, some 

 insipid. Some are always small in size, while others 

 will sometimes weigh a pound. 



What a sweet smell comes from the bins of apples 

 in the cellar, the blending of many odors, as we open 

 the door to descend! Many a basketful is eaten by 

 the firelight, with nuts and cake; and many a fine dish 

 of fruit for dessert is formed during the autumn 

 months of apples, and pears, and grapes from the vine- 

 yard. Apple pies, of every description, are a staple 

 part of the pantry of every well-ordered household; 

 apple sauce is a daily relish in its season; and the rich 

 apple butter reminds us of the year that has gone all 

 through the long winter. 



There is no fruit so generally useful as the apple, 



