The Pleasures of the Orchard 169 



knobs of gum which has exuded from the bark. Now and 

 then a leaf rustles to the ground, and at longer intervals 

 an apple falls with a decided thump. It is silent save for 

 the gentle twittering of the swallows on the topmost 

 branches — they are talking of their coming journey — and 

 perhaps occasionally the distant echo of a shot where the 

 lead has gone whistling among a covey. It is a place to 

 dream in, bringing with you a chair to sit on — for it will 

 be freer from insects than the garden-seat — and a book. 

 Put away all thought of time : often in striving to get the 

 most value from our time it slips from us as the reality did 

 from the dog that greedily grasped at the shadow : simply 

 dream of what you will, with apples and plums, nuts and 

 filberts within reach. 



Dusky Blenheim oranges, with a gleam of gold under 

 the rind ; a warmer tint of yellow on the pippins. Here 

 streaks of red, here a tawny hue. Yonder a load of great 

 russets ; near by heavy pears bending the strong branches ; 

 round black damsons ; luscious egg-plums hanging their 

 yellow ovals overhead ; bullace, not yet ripe, but presently 

 sweetly piquant. On the walnut trees bunches of round 

 green balls — note those that show a dark spot or streak, 

 and gently tap them with the tip of the tall slender pole 

 placed there for the purpose. Down they come glancing 

 from bough to bough, and, striking the hard turf, the thick 

 green rind splits asunder, and the walnut itself rebounds 

 upwards. Those who buy walnuts have no idea of the fine 

 taste of the fruit thus gathered direct from the tree, when 

 the kernel, though so curiously convoluted, slips its pale 

 yellow skin easily and is so wondrously white. Surely it 

 is an error to banish the orchard and the fruit-garden from 

 the pleasure-grounds of modern houses, strictly relegating 

 them to the rear, as if something to be ashamed of. 



