CHAPTER VIII 
COMFORT ME WITH APPLES 
“ What can your eye desire to see, your eares to heare, your 
mouth to taste, or your nose to smell, that is not to be had in an 
Orchard ? with Abundance and Variety ? What shall I say ? 
1000 of Delights are in an Orchard ; and sooner shall I be weary 
than I can reckon the least part of that pleasure which one, that 
hath and loves an Orchard, may find therein.” 
— A New Orchard , William Lawson, i 6i 8. 
N every old-time garden, save the 
revered front yard, the borders 
stretched into the domain of the 
Currant and Gooseberry bushes, 
and into the orchard. Often a row 
of Crabapple trees pressed up into 
the garden’s precincts and shaded 
the Sweet Peas. Orchard and garden could scarcely 
be separated, so closely did they grow up together. 
Every old garden book had long chapters on 
orchards, written con amore , with a zest sometimes 
lacking on other pages. How they loved in the 
in an orchard, planted, as Sir Philip Sidney said, 
“ cunningly with trees of taste-pleasing fruits.” 
H ow charming were their orchard seats, “ fachoned 
for meditacon ! ” Sometimes these orchard seats 
were banks of the strongly scented Camomile, a 
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