ll true, nor all false, I'll be bound--
Of the tree that bears apples all the year round.

There was a Dean Tucker of Gloster city,
Who may have been wise, or worthy, or witty;
But I know nothing of him, the more's the pity,
Save that he was Dean Tucker of Gloster city.

And walking one day with a musing air
In his Deanery garden, close by where
The great cathedral's west window's seen,--
"I'll plant an apple," said Tucker the Dean.

The apple was planted, the apple grew,
A stout young tree, full of leaves not few;
The apple was grafted, the apple bore
Of goodly apples, one, two, three, four.

The old Dean walked in his garden fair,
"I'm glad I planted that young tree there,
Though it was but a shoot, or some old tree's sucker;
I'll taste it to-morrow," said good Dean Tucker.

But lo, in the night when (they say) trees talk,
And some of the liveliest get up and walk,
With fairies abroad for watch and warden--
There was such a commotion in the Dean's garden!

"I will not be gathered," the apple-tree said,
"Was it for this I blossomed so red?
Hung out my fruit all the summer days,
Got so much sunshine, and pleasure and praise?"

"Ah!" interrupted a solemn red plum,
"This is the end to which all of us come;
Last month I was laden with hundreds--but now"--
And he sighed the last little plum off from his bough.

"Nay, friend, take it easy," the pear-tree replied
(A lady-like person against the wall-side).
"Man guards, nurtures, trains us from top down to root:
I think 'tis but fair we should give him our fruit."

"No, I'll not be gathered," the apple resumed,
And shook his young branches, and fluttered and fumed;
"And I'll not drop neither, as some of you drop,
Over-ripe: I'm determined to keep my whole crop.

"And I with"--O'er his branches just then _something_ flew;
It seemed like moth, large and grayish of hue.
But it was a Fairy. Her voice soft did sound,
"Be the tree that bears apples all the year round."

* * * * *

The Dean to his apple-tree, came, full of hope,
But tough was the fruit-stalk as double-twist rope,
And when he had cut it with patience and pain,
He bit just one mouthful--and never again.

"An apple so tasteless, so juiceless, so hard,
Is, sure, good for nought but