PROCEEDINGS OF THIRTY-THIRD FRUIT-GROWERS ' CONVENTION. 



THE APPLE. 



By FRANK FEMMONS, of Home Orchard. 



That maxim old, so often told, 



"We live by what we eat," 

 [s true to-day, in every way, 



So true " 'tis hard to beat." 



'Twas old I know, long years ago, 



We only need remind, 

 Lest we forget to follow yet, 



A rule that's ever kind. 



To keep in health, with little wealth, 

 Through days as they come 'round, 



'Tis simply this, Ah, what a bliss ! 

 I'll tell it as I've found. 



Some apples eat, both tart and sweet ; 



If small, then two or more ; 

 First peel the skin, quite neat and thin, 



But do not eat the core. 



Of changing stripe, when fully ripe, 



A golden, green or red, 

 A good one choose (or you may lose, 



By beauty's cheek misled). 



Whatever hue that pleases you ; 



One juicy, rich and fine — 

 With flavor rare — without compare, 



A lover knows the sign. 



At morning's meal, when you may feel 



The need of some rare wine, 

 The apple fair is far more rare 



Than vintage from the Rhine. 



To gods who feast, from west to east, 



Or 'neath the tropic sun, 

 Our apples bright, by Nature's right, 



Are first with every one. 



Their juicy flesh, so crisp and fresh, 



Is flavored from the dew ; 

 The morning bright, the sun's clear light, 



And evening's brightest hue, 



Are blended there, with love and care — 



The richest given wealth ; 

 By angel's hands, through all the lands, 



To bless the world with health. 



And when they're stewed, by hands not rude, 



In country or in town ; 

 In dumplings warm— in pastry form, 



Or baked to waxy brown, 



A little cream may add a "dream," 

 Ah! who could ask for more? 



Till tarts and pies, in visions rise, 

 Through good wife's pantry door. 



