of the temptation was our Apple, but
simply that it was some fruit that grew in Eden. The Apple (_pomum_) has
left its mark in the language in the word "pomatum," which, originally
an ointment made of Apples, is now an ointment in which Apples have no
part.

The Crab was held in far more esteem in the sixteenth century than it is
with us. The roasted fruit served with hot ale (9 and 10) was a
favourite Christmas dish, and even without ale the roasted Crab was a
favourite, and this not for want of better fruit, for Gerard tells us
that in his time "the stocke or kindred of Apples was infinite," but
because they were considered pleasant food.[20:3] Another curious use of
Crabs is told in the description of Crab-wake, or "Crabbing the Parson,"
at Halesowen, Salop, on St. Kenelm's Day (July 17), in Brand's "Popular
Antiquities" (vol. i. p. 342, Bohn's edition). Nor may we now despise
the Crab tree, though we do not eat its fruit. Among our native trees
there is none more beautiful than the Crab tree, both in flower and in
fruit. An old Crab tree in full flower is a sight that will delight any
artist, nor is it altogether useless; its wood is very hard and very
lasting, and from its fruit verjuice is made, not, however, much in
England, as I believe nearly all the verjuice now used is made in
France.

The Pippin, from being originally a general name for any Apple raised
from pips and not from grafts, is now, and probably was in Shakespeare's
time, confined to the bright-coloured, long-keeping Apples (Justice
Shallow's was "last year's Pippin"), of which the Golden Pippin ("the
Pippin burnished o'er with gold," Phillips) is the type.

The Bitter-Sweeting (22) was an old and apparently a favourite Apple. It
is frequently mentioned in the old writers, as by Gower, "Conf. Aman."
viii. 174--

"For all such time of love is lore,
And like unto the Bitter-swete,[21:1]
For though it think a man fyrst swete
He shall well felen at laste
That it is sower."

By Chaucer--

"Yet of that art they conne nought wexe sadde,
For unto hem it is a Bitter Swete."

_Prologue of the Chanoune's Yeman._

And by Ben Jonson--

"That love's a Bitter-sweet I ne'er conceive
Till the sour minute comes of taking leave,
And then I taste it."[21:2]

_Underwoods._

Parkinson names it in his list of Appl