212 FIELD NOTES IN SEED TIME. 



fiur, symmetrical apples, but with a pulp that, if 

 eaten, would prevent one from whistling for a 

 week. They have about the stems a bluish cast, 

 a kind of morose, acerb appearance, which at once 

 warns you not to taste them. Then there is the 

 mother's apple, that suggests a close relation- 

 ship to the far-famed modern Porter; yellowish, 

 egg-shaped, but with a deeper blush on the cheek, 

 and a prominent ridge running lengthwise round 

 the fruit, as if it hinted to the owner, " cut me in 

 two here, and give haK to your friend." The 

 pomes named the oaks growing on another tree 

 that stands near a sturdy acorn-bearer, might have 

 honored some old Roman garden, they are so pecu- 

 liarly rounded and tasteful. Their light green sides 

 are bi"oadly streaked with vermilion, and the cells 

 within bursting and running over with spicy juice. 

 Under the red wax is the banqueting place of the 

 ctickets and naked slugs. The rind has a greasy 

 feel, and is of such a dark rich crimson that this 

 coloring matter permeates the mealy, granulated tis- 

 sue nearly to the core. The bitter sweets and the 

 sugar sweets grow close together, but the chemists 

 of the soil and air have poured from their secret 

 reservoii-s, into the woody tubes and fibers of each, 

 a different kind of mixture, which makes the fruit 



