found such a savory morsel under its bark, that he perforated it in
a ring quite round the tree before be left it,--a thing which he had
never done before, to my knowledge. 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; and 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.

My theme being the Wild Apple, I will merely glance at some of the
seasons in the annual growth of the cultivated apple, and pass on to
my special province.

The flowers of the apple are perhaps the most beautiful of any tree,
so copious and so delicious to both sight and scent. The walker is
frequently tempted to turn and linger near some more than usually
handsome one, whose blossoms are two thirds expanded. How superior
it is in these respects to the pear, whose blossoms are neither
colored nor fragrant!

By the middle of July, green apples are so large as to remind us of
coddling, and of the autumn. The sward is commonly strewed with
little ones which fall still-born, as it were,--Nature thus thinning
them for us. The Roman writer Palladius said: "If apples are