THE AMERICAN BOTANIST 
Vol. 111. December 15, 1902. No. 6 
CONCERNING THE APPLE. 
By Chas. D. Turnball. 
It seems that when a writer on nature desires to attest and con- 
firm his title and demonstrate his ability to interpret nature's 
moods and signs he naturally employs the apple in his effort. 
Thoreau's essay on the apple has never been equalled for fullness 
and understanding, John Burroughs has also written entertain- 
ingly on the subject, and every writer appears to consider it an 
appropriate subject and a proper one with which to further his 
claim to consideration. The reason for this is plain. The apple 
is so thoroughly individual in the wood; the ash superficially re- 
sembles the maple, the chestnut resembles the oak,~in truth all 
have many points of similiarity ; but which could be confounded 
with the apple, even by one unacquainted with out-of-doors lore? 
On the tree-clad mountain-side it attracts our gaze as surely as 
the majesty of the oak or the stateliness of the chestnut. Since 
the course of empire began its journey towards the setting sun, 
^he apple tree, like the cow and horse, has followed in its wake, 
and in the course of ages has acquired an appearance of domesti- 
cation. This way explains how, though ungainly and illfavored, 
in comparison with the beauty of the elm or maple, it is admired 
by all with whom out-of-door nature finds favor. 
It is one of the few trees of temperate latitudes that are practi- 
ally never found in an absolutely wild state. Those hardy trees on 
the hills are not wild. From cores carelessly tossed here and 
there by America's first farmers and with the aid of the cows and 
birds it left the bounds of civilization and began life in the wilds. 
But it will be noted that only the hardy kinds, the Russian vari- 
ties, have ever evinced a desire to run wild. Our summer apples, 
the Astrachan and Golden Sweet, from southern Asia, are quite 
content to grow under man's protection. 
