STATE rOMOLOGICAL SOCIETY. 109 



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growers than any other that can be named — in one word, the Bald- i q 

 win, a native of our old mother State, and the king of the New 

 England orchard. Wtll, some may raise objections to n)y typical 

 variety, and bring a lot of grave charges against it by reason of 

 flavor, or other disqnalilication. It is not my purpose to argue with 

 such ; ni}' purpose is to deny in toto their entire premises, and to in- 

 sist that this is the one sole variety best adapted to commercial 

 orchards in this, our splendid orchard State. To be sure, a man will 

 want a few other kinds, a tree or two of some early fall ajjples ; in 

 all, not more than a dozen, possibly* half a dozen would be better, of 

 the late fall and winter sorts for the dinner-table and evening tire. 

 This selection I leave every one to make for himself. What does a 

 man grow trees and raise apples for? — that he ma}' obtain cash from 

 the business. It is this that he is after ; and with no other variety 

 can he get so much money, one year with another for a period of ten 

 years, as from the Ikrldwin. The buyers tell us if the great apple 

 handlers are to order a thousand barrels of apples, nine hundred and 

 odd barrels will be Baldwins. The business of past years proves it ; 

 I can see no variety likely to take its place in the futuie that is to be. 

 Therefore if you plant or graft for the coming years, [)laut and graft 

 the Baldwin. It is the commercially-successful apple of the great 

 north. 



Our apples are now ready for the harvest — how shall they be 

 gathered? Not as in the days of our boyhood, when two strong 

 men went into the trees, and, shaking the branches as if they would 

 tear the limbs from the trunk, sent the bullet-like apples rattling 

 down upon the stubble, rubbish and rocks, and over the backs of 

 us youngsters who ran under the trees for "fun," like shot from a 

 modern Gattling gun — while another, with a long, crotched pole, 

 gave the out-reaching limbs such fearful knocks, as though he were 

 punching a refractory pig at arm's length. We have improved upon 

 that. Then cider was the chief end of the orchard, and of some 

 men, too, for I remember my old uncle had a cider tank built in his 

 cellar, as large as a forty-hogshead cistern, which was lifted up with 

 faucet, depth gauge, and other modern conveniences, and upon 

 which he set his heart more than upon all the apples in his orchard, 

 or the cattle in his stalls. Now the art of picking apples has come 

 to be quite a study — in fact, almost a science ; and 1 don't see why 

 in the future a skilled apple picker should not be called "Professor" 

 with quite as much propriety as a corn doctor or dancing master is 



