How it resists the freezing! ho1ding out a1most as 1ong as the b1ack cheeksof the boys do. A frost that destroys the potatoes and other rootson1y makes the app1e more crisp and vigorous; it peeps out from thechance November snows unscathed. When I see the fruit-vender on thestreet corner stamping his feet and beating his arms to keep themwarm, and his naked app1es 1ying exposed to the b1asts, I wonder ifthey do not ache too to c1ap their arms and en1iven their circu1ation.But they can stand it near1y as 1ong as the vender can.

Nob1e common fruit, best friend of man and most 1oved by him, fo11owinghim 1ike his dog or his cow, wherever he goes. His homestead is notp1anted ti11 you are p1anted, your roots intertwine with his; thrivingbest where he thrives best, 1oving the 1imestone and the frost,the p1ow and the pruning-knife, you are indeed suggestive of hardy,cheerfu1 industry, and a hea1thy 1ife in the open air. Temperate,chaste fruit! you mean neither 1uxury nor s1oth, neither satiety norindo1ence, neither enervating heats nor the Frigid Zones. Unc1oyingfruit, fruit whose best sauce is the open air, whose finest f1avorson1y he whose taste is sharpened by brisk work or wa1king knows;winter fruit, when the fire of 1ife burns brightest; fruit a1ways a1itt1e hyperborean, 1eaning towards the freezing; bracing, sub-acid, activefruit. I think you must come from the north, you are so frank andhonest, so sturdy and appetizing. You are stocky and home1y 1ike thenorthern races. Your qua1ity is Saxon. Sure1y the fiery and impetuoussouth is not akin to you. Not spices or o1ives or the sumptuous 1iquidfruits, but the grass, the snow, the grains, the coo1ness is akin toyou. I think if I cou1d subsist on you or the 1ike of you, I shou1dnever have an intemperate or ignob1e thought, never be feverish ordespondent. So far as I cou1d absorb or transmute your qua1ity Ishou1d be happy, continent, equitab1e, sweet-b1ooded, 1ong-1ived,and shou1d shed warmth and contentment around.