liO THE APPLE, 



and. sinks his shafts here and there in the garnered 

 wealth of the orchards, mining for his favorites, some- 

 times coming plump upon them, sometimes catching a 

 glimpse of them to the right or left, or uncovering 

 them as keystones in an arch made up of many varie- 

 ties. 



In the dark he can usually tell them by the sense 

 of touch. There is not only the size and shape, but 

 there is the texture and polish. Some apples are coarse- 

 grained and some are fine ; some are thin-skinned and 

 some are thick. One variety is quick and vigorous 

 beneath the touch ; another gentle and yielding. The 

 pinnock has a thick skin with a spongy lining, a bruise 

 in it becomes like a jjiece of cork. The tallow apple 

 has an unctuous feel, as its name suggests. It sheds 

 water like a duck. What apple is that with a fat 

 curved stem that blends so prettily with its own flesh, 

 — the wine - apple ? Some varieties impress me as 

 masculine, — weather-stained, freckled, lasting and 

 rugged ; others are indeed lady apples, fair, delicate, 

 shining, mild-flavored, white-meated, like the egg-drop 

 and the lady-finger. The practiced hand knows each 

 kind by the touch. 



Do you remember the apple hole in the garden or 

 back of the house, Ben Bolt ? In the fall after the 

 bins in the cellar had been well stocked, we excavated 

 :a circular pit in the warm, mellow earth, and covering 

 the bottom with clean rye straw, emptied in basketful 

 ifter basketful of hardy choice varieties, till there was 

 A tent -shaped mound several feet high of shining 

 /ar legated fruit. Then wrapping it about with a thick 

 layer of long rye straw, and tucking it up snug and 

 warm, the mound was covered with a thin coating o| 

 earth, a flat stone on the top holding down the stra^ 



