THE APPLE 121 



from the apex above and you bag it at once. When 

 you were a schoolboy you stowed these away in 

 your pockets, and ate them along the road and at 

 recess, and again at noontime; and they, in a mea- 

 sure, corrected the effects of the cake and pie with 

 which your indulgent mother filled your lunch- 

 basket. 



The boy is indeed the true apple-eater, and is not 

 to be questioned how he came by the fruit with 

 which his pockets are filled. It belongs to him, and 

 he may steal it if it cannot be had in any other way. 

 His own juicy flesh craves the juicy flesh of the 

 apple. Sap draws sap. His fruit-eating has little 

 reference to the state of his appetite. Whether he 

 be full of meat or empty of meat, he wants the apple 

 just the same. Before meal or after meal it never 

 comes amiss. The farm-boy munches apples all day 

 long. He has nests of them in the haymow, mel- 

 lowing, to which he makes frequent visits. Some- 

 times old Brindle, having access through the open 

 door, smells them out and makes short work of 

 them. 



In some countries the custom remains of placing 

 a rosy apple in the hand of the dead, that they may 

 find it when they enter paradise. In northern my- 

 thology the giants eat apples to keep off old age. 



The apple is indeed the fruit of youth. As we 

 grow old we crave apples less. It is an ominous 

 sign. When you are ashamed to be seen eating 

 them on the street ; when you can carry them in your 

 pocket and your hand not constantly find its way to 



