_ALL A-BLOW: THE APPLE TREE_.
It certainly was a beautiful sight, and the children exclaimed over it
in ectasy. It was now past the middle of April, and Miss Harson had
taken her little flock to visit an apple-orchard at some distance from
Elmridge, and the whole place seemed to be one mass of pink-and-white
bloom.
"And how deliciously _sweet_ it is!" said Malcolm as he sniffed the
fragrant air.
"Oh!" exclaimed Edith, turning up her funny little nose to get the full
benefit of all this fragrance; "I can't breathe half enough at once."
"That is just my case," said her governess, laughing, "but I did not
think to say it in that way. Get all you can of this deliciousness,
children; I wish that we could carry some of it away with us."
"And so you shall," replied a hearty voice as Mr. Grove, the owner of
the orchard, came up with a knife in his hand and began cutting off
small branches of apple--blossoms. "I like to see folks enjoy things."
"I hope you don't mind our trespassing on your grounds?" said Miss
Harson. "I can engage that my little friends will do no injury, and I
particularly wished them to see your beautiful orchard in bloom; it is
almost equal to a field of roses."
"Don't mind it at all, miss," was the reply--"quite the contrary; and I
think, myself, it's a pretty sight. Smells good, too. Now, here's a
nosegay big enough for you three young ladies, and Bub there can
carry it."
Malcolm, who was quite proud of his name, felt so indignant at being
called "Bub" that he almost forgot the farmer's generosity; but his
governess acknowledged it, very much to the worthy man's satisfaction.
Edith, however, was rather shocked.
"I thought it was wicked," said she, "to cut off flowers from fruit
trees? Won't these make apples?"
"Not them particular ones, Sis," replied Mr. Grove, with a laugh;
"they're done for now. But it ain't wicked to cut off your own apple
blows when there's too many on the tree to make good apples, and there's
plenty to spare yet." He was very much amused at the little girl's
serious face over this wholesale destruction of infant apples, and he
invited them all to come to the house and get a drink of fresh milk. The
children thought this a very pleasant invitation, and Miss Harson was
quite willing to gratify them.
The farmer led his guests into a very cheerful and wonderfully clean
kitchen, where Mrs. Groves was busy with her baking, and the loaves of
fresh bread looked very inviting. She was as pleasant and hospitable as
her husband, and after shaking up a funny-looking patchwork cushion in a
rocking-chair for the young lady to sit down on she told the little
girls that she would get them a couple of crickets if they would wait a
minute, and disappeared into the next room.
The two little sisters looked at each other in dismay and wondered what
they could do with these insects, but before they could consult Miss
Harson good Mrs. Grove had returned carrying in each hand a small flat
footstool. The girls sat down very carefully, for they were not
accustomed to such low seats; but the whole party were tired with their
walk and glad to rest for a short time. Malcolm, being a boy, was
expected to sit where he could, and he speedily established himself in
the corner of a wooden settle.
In spite of the apple-blossoms, the kitchen fire was very comfortable;
and, as the baking was just coming to an end, Mrs.
Grove said that "she would be ready to visit with them in a minute:" she
did not seem to allow herself more than a "minute" for anything. Besides
the milk, some very nice seed-cakes in the shape of hearts were
produced, and Edith thought them the most delightful little cakes she
had ever tasted. Clara and Malcolm, too, were quite hungry, and Miss
Harson enjoyed her glass of milk and seed-cake as well as did the young
people. The farmer and his wife seemed really sorry to part with their
guests when they rose to go, but Miss Harson said that it was time for
them to be at home, and the children were obedient on the instant.
"Well," said the worthy couple, "you know now where to come when you
want more apple-blows and a drink of milk."
Malcolm was quite laden with the mass of rosy flowers which Mr. Grove
piled up in his arms, and he enjoyed the delicious scent all the
way home.
"I must get out the big jar," said Miss Harson as she surveyed their
treasures, "and there are so many buds that I think we may be able to
keep them for some days.--What would you say, Edith, if I told you that
people cut off not only the blossoms, but even the fruit itself, while
it is green, to make what is left on the tree handsomer and better?"
Edith looked her surprise, and the other children could not understand
why all the fruit that formed should not be left on the tree to ripen.
"It is very often left," replied their governess, "but, although the
crop is a large one, it will be of inferior quality; and those who
understand fruit-raising thin it out, so that the tree may not have more
fruit than it can well nourish. But now it is time for papa to come, and
after dinner we will have a regular apple-talk."
"How nice it was at Mrs. Grove's to-day!" said Clara, when they were
gathered for the talk. "I think that kitchens are pleasanter to sit in
than parlors and school-rooms."
"So do I," chimed in Edith; "but I was afraid about the crickets at
first. I thought we'd have to hold 'em in our hands, and I didn't
like that."
Why _would_ people always laugh when there was nothing to laugh at? The
little girl thought she had a very funny brother and sister, and Miss
Harson, too, was funny sometimes.
"Have you so soon forgotten about the real insect-crickets, dear?" asked
her governess, kindly. "Why, it will be months yet before we see one.
Besides, I thought I told you that in some places a little bench is
called a 'cricket'?--Do you know, Clara, why you thought Mrs. Grove's
kitchen so pleasant? It is larger and better furnished than kitchens
usually are, there were pleasant people in it, and you were tired and
hungry and ready to enjoy rest and refreshments; but I am quite sure
that, on the whole, you would like your own quarters best, because you
are better fitted for them, as Mrs. Grove is for hers. We had a very
pleasant visit, though, and some day we may repeat it--perhaps when the
apples are ripe."
"Good! good!" cried the children, clapping their hands; and Malcolm
added that he "would like to be let loose in that apple-orchard."
"Perhaps you would like it better than Farmer Grove would," was the
reply. "But we haven't got to the apples yet; we must first find out a
little about the tree. We learn in the beginning that it was one of the
very earliest trees planted in this country by the settlers, because it
is both hardy and useful. There is a wild species called the Virginia
crab-apple, which bears beautiful pink flowers as fragrant as roses, but
its small apples are intensely sour. The blossoms of the cultivated
apple tree are more beautiful than those of any other fruit; they are
delicious to both sight and scent."
"And do look, Miss Harson," said Clara, "at these lovely half-open buds!
They are just like tiny roses, and _so_ sweet!"
Down went Clara's head among the clustered blossoms, and then Edith had
to come too; and Malcolm declared that between the two they would smell
them to death.
"It seems," continued Miss Harson, "that the apple tree grows wild in
every part of Europe except in the frigid zone and in Western Asia,
China and Japan. It is thought to have been planted in Britain by the
Romans; and when it was brought here, it seemed to do better than it had
done anywhere else. It is said that 'not only the Indians, but many
indigenous insects, birds and quadrupeds, welcomed the apple tree to
these shores. The butterfly of the tent-caterpillar saddled her eggs on
the very first twig that was formed, and it has since shared her
affections with the wild cherry; and the canker-worm also, in a measure,
abandoned the elm to feed on it. As it grew apace the bluebird, robin,
cherry-bird, king-bird, and many more, came with haste and built their
nests and warbled in its boughs, and so became orchard-birds and
multiplied more than ever. It was an era in the history of their race in
America. The downy woodpecker found such a savory morsel under its bark
that he perforated it in a ring quite round the tree before he left it.
It did not take the partridge long to find out how sweet its buds were,
and every winter eve she flew, and still flies, from the wood to pluck
them, much to the farmer's sorrow. The rabbit, too, was not slow to
learn the taste of its twigs and bark; and when the fruit was ripe, the
squirrel half rolled, half carried, it to his hole. Even the musquash
crept up the bank from the brook at evening, and greedily devoured it,
until he had worn a path in the grass there; and when it was frozen and
thawed, the crow and the jay were glad to taste it occasionally. The owl
crept into the first apple tree that became hollow, and fairly hooted
with delight, finding it just the place for him; so, settling down into
it, he has remained there ever since.'
"Speaking of these buds, Clara," said her governess, "I think I forgot
to tell you that the apple tree belongs to the family Rosaceae, and
therefore the half-opened blossoms have a right to look like roses. The
tree is not a handsome one, being a small edition of the oak in its
sturdy outline, but it is less graceful or picturesque-looking, being
often broader than it is high and resembling in shape a half globe. The
leaves are not pretty except when first unfolded, and their color is
then a beautiful light tint known as apple-green. But the foliage soon
becomes dusty and shabby-looking. An old apple tree, with its gnarled,
and often hollow, trunk, is generally handsomer than a young one, unless
in the time of blossoms; for only a young apple-orchard is covered with
such a profusion of bloom as that we saw to-day."
"I am glad," said Clara, "that it belongs to the rose family, for now
the dear little buds seem prettier than ever."
"The apples are prettier yet," observed
Malcolm; "if there's anything I like, it's apples."
"I am afraid that you eat too many of them for your good," replied his
governess; "I shall have to limit you to so many a day."
"I have eaten only six to-day," was the modest reply, "and they were
little russets, too."
"Oh, Malcolm, Malcolm!" said Miss Harson, laughing; "what shall I do
with you? Why, you would soon make an apple-famine in most places. Three
apples a day must be your allowance for the present; and if at any time
we go to live in an orchard, you may have six."
"Why, _we_ have only one," exclaimed little Edith, "and we don't want
any more.--Do we, Clara?"
[Illustration: Apple Blossoms.]
"If you don't want 'em," said Malcolm, "there's no sense in eating
'em.--But I'll remember, Miss Harson. I suppose three at one time ought
to be enough."
Malcolm's expression, as he said this, was so doleful that every one
laughed at him; and his governess continued:
"The apple tree is said to produce a greater variety of beautiful fruit
than any other tree that is known, and apples are liked by almost every
one. They are a very wholesome fruit and nearly as valuable as bread and
potatoes for food, because they can be used in so many different ways,
and the poorer qualities make very nourishing food for nearly
all animals."
"Rex fairly snatches the apple out of my hand when I go to give him
one," said Malcolm.
"So does Regina," added Clara, who trembled in her shoes whenever she
offered these dainties to the handsome carriage-horses.
Edith had not dared to venture on such a feat yet, and therefore she had
nothing to say.
"All horses are fond of apples," said Miss Harson, "and the fruit is
very thoroughly appreciated. Ancient Britain was celebrated for her
apple-orchards, and the tree was reverenced by the Druids because the
mistletoe grew abundantly on it. In Saxon times, when England became a
Christian country, the rite of coronation, or crowning of a king, was in
such words as these: 'May the almighty Lord give thee, O king, from the
dew of heaven and the fatness of the earth, abundance of corn and wine
and oil! Be thou the lord of thy brothers, and let the sons of thy
mother bow down before thee. Let the people serve thee and the tribes
adore thee. May the Almighty bless thee with the blessings of heaven
above, and the mountains and the valleys with the blessings of the deep
below, with the blessings of grapes and _apples_! Bless, O Lord, the
courage of this prince, and prosper the work of his hands; and by thy
blessing may his land be filled with _apples_, with the fruit and dew of
heaven from the top of the ancient mountains, from the _apples_ of the
eternal hills, from the fruit of the earth and its fullness!' You will
see from this how highly apples were valued in England in those
ancient times."
"I should like to pick them up when they are ripe," said Clara, and
Malcolm expressed a desire to hire himself out by the day to Mr. Grove
when that time arrived.
"An apple-orchard in autumn," continued their governess, "is often a
merry scene. Ladders are put against the trees, and the finest apples
are carefully picked off, but such as are to be used for cider-making
are shaken to the ground. Men and boys are at work, and even women and
children are there with baskets and aprons spread out to catch the
fruit; and they run back and forth wherever the apples fall thickest,
with much laughter at the unexpected showers that come down upon their
heads and necks. Large baskets filled with these apples are carried to
the mill, where, after being laid in heaps a while to mellow, they are
crushed and pressed till their juice is extracted; and this, being
fermented, becomes cider. From this cider, by a second fermentation, the
best vinegar is made."
[Illustration: THE APPLE-HARVEST.]
"Miss Harson," asked Edith, as the talk seemed to have come to an end,
"isn't there any more about apple trees? I like 'em."
"Yes, dear," was the reply; "there is more. I was just looking over, in
this little book, some queer superstitions about apple trees in England,
and here is a strange performance which is said to take place in some
very retired parts of the country:
"'Scarcely have the merry bells ushered in the morning of Christmas than
a troop of people may be seen entering the apple-orchard, often when the
trees are powdered with hoarfrost and snow lies deep upon the ground.
One of the company carries a large flask filled with cider and
tastefully decorated with holly-branches; and when every one has
advanced about ten paces from the choicest tree, rustic pipes made from
the hollow boughs of elder are played upon by young men, while Echo
repeats the strain, and it seems as if fairy-musicians responded in low,
sweet tones from some neighboring wood or hill. Then bursts forth a
chorus of loud and sonorous voices while the cider-flask is being
emptied of its contents around the tree, and all sing some such words
as these:
"'"Here's to thee, old apple tree!
Long mayest thou grow.
And long mayest thou blow, and ripen the apples that hang on
thy bough!
"'"This full can of apple wine,
Old tree, be thine:
It will cheer thee and warm thee amid the deep snow;
"'"Till the goldfinch--fond bird!--
In the orchard is heard
Singing blithe 'mid the blossoms that whiten thy bough."'"
"But what did they do it for?" asked Malcolm, who enjoyed the account as
much as the others. "There doesn't seem to be any sense in it."
"There _is_ no sense in it," replied his governess, "but these ignorant
people had inherited the custom from their fathers and grandfathers, and
they really believed--and perhaps still believe--that this attention
would be sure to bring a fine crop of apples. We are distinctly told,
though, that 'it is God that giveth the increase;' and to him alone
belong the fruits of the earth. Sometimes the crop is so great that the
trees fairly bend over with the weight of the fruit, and there is an old
English saying: 'The more apples the tree bears, the more she bows to
the folk.'"
"How funny!" laughed Edith. "Does the apple tree move its head, Miss
Harson?"
"It cannot go quite so far as that," was the reply; "it just stays bent
over like a person carrying a heavy burden. The branches of overladen
fruit trees are sometimes propped up with long poles to keep them from
breaking. There is another strange custom, which used to be practiced on
New Year's eve. It was called 'Apple-Howling,' and a troop of boys
visited the different orchards--which would scarcely have been desirable
when the apples were ripe--and, forming a ring around the trees,
repeated these words:
"'Stand fast, root! bear well, top!
Pray God send us a good howling crop--
Every twig, apples big;
Every bough, apples enow.'
"All then shouted in chorus, while one of the party played on a cow's
horn, and the trees were well rapped with the sticks which they carried.
This ceremony is thought to have been a relic of some heathen sacrifice,
and it is quite absurd enough to be that."
"What is 'a howling crop,' Miss Harson?" asked Clara. "That name sounds
so queer!"
"I don't know what it can be," replied her governess, "unless it refers
to the strange expression sometimes used, 'howling with delight.' We
hear more commonly of 'howling with pain,' but 'a howling crop' must be
one that makes the owner scream, as well as dance for joy."
"Why, _I_ scream only when I'm frightened," said Edith, who began to
think that there were much sillier people in the world than herself.
"At garter-snakes," added Malcolm, giving his sister a sly pinch; but
Edith did not mind his pinches, because he always took good care not
to hurt her.
Miss Harson said that the best way was not to scream at all, as it was
both a silly and a troublesome habit, and the sooner her charges broke
themselves of it the better she should like it. Clara and Edith both
promised to try--just as they had promised before, when the ants were so
troublesome; but they were nine months older now, and seemed to be
getting a little ashamed of the habit.
"Are apples mentioned anywhere in the Bible?" asked Miss Harson,
presently.
Clara and Malcolm were busy thinking, but nothing came of it, until
their governess said,
"Turn to the book of Proverbs, Clara, and find the twenty-fifth chapter
and the eleventh verse."
Clara read very carefully:
"'A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.' But
what does it mean?" she asked.
"It probably means 'framed in silver' or 'in silver frames[11],'" was
the reply; "and then it is easy to understand how important our words
are, and that 'fitly-spoken' ones are as valuable and lasting as golden
apples framed in silver. The apple tree is mentioned in Joel, where it
is said that 'all the trees of the field are withered[12],' and both
apple trees and apples are mentioned in several places of the Old
Testament. But, to tell the whole truth, scholars are not agreed as to
whether the Hebrew word denotes the apple or some other fruit that grew
in the land of Israel."
[11] The Revised Version renders the phrase "in baskets of silver."
[12] Joel i. 12.
The children had all enjoyed the "apple-talk," and they felt that the
fruit which they were so accustomed to seeing would now have a new
meaning for them.