72 THE APPLE-TREE. 



But we must never forget tliat comparisons are not fair 

 unless the conditions are equal, and many apples that rule the 

 roast at home (wherever that home may he) do but poorly 

 abroad, so poorly that " a mother had not known her child " ! 



The Eibston for instance (which we have found very " coy 

 and hard to please " in Cornwall) is not a favourite in American 

 orchards, but there it is not quite the same apple, and the 

 famous Newtown Pippin comes to perfection only on Long Island 

 and the banks of the Hudson. Yet we must recognise that 

 change is the key to progress, and where it fails in one instance 

 it may succeed in many. Now although the American growers 

 are exceedingly proud of their apples and deservedly so, yet 

 there is one fact which needs to be explained. 



N. America is a great and fruitful country, the American 

 wheats are fair and beautiful to look at, but they are not so rich 

 in albumin and some other nutritious properties as the English 

 and Russian wheats. 



Again, the American barley lacks the necessary stamina for 

 malting, and I believe in spite of the imposing appearance of the 

 American apple there is little or no cider made over all theWest- 

 ern Continent, from the wintry shores of Hudson's Bay to the 

 Orange groves of Florida, and apart from the value of cider as a 

 commodity, that statement calls for more than a passing notice. 



It so happens that this is an inquiry which I have never 

 seen touched upon in the American press, where columns are 

 weekly devoted to the farm ; but once upon a time, when 

 wandering in Ontario, I came by a cheerful homestead flanked 

 on one side by a fine orchard, and Just then the farmer coming 

 along, I asked hira about the cider prospects, not at all knowing 

 from where he hailed. Judge then my surprise Avhen this dear 

 old exile replied " oh ! no, there bant no cider here, it hath no 

 body like at home in Devonshire." Is it possible then that in 

 that New World, which is in one sense the land of promise, 

 there is a something less piquant in the soil, which despite the 

 fair outward show of all its products, may lack a certain 

 essential quality and aroma peculiar to older countries ? 



Is there a sort of analogy between the plump muscles and 

 heavy bones of the old World people and their ba,rley and apples 

 full of stamina ? 



