ody should be without.

An old apple, not sufficiently known, is the Rosemary Russet; it has
the distinctive russet-bronze colouring, always indicative of flavour,
with a rosy flush on the sunny side, and Dr. Hogg describes it further
as, "flesh yellow, crisp, tender, very juicy, sugary and highly
aromatic--a first-rate dessert apple, in use from December to
February." In my opinion it comes next, though _longo intervallo_, to
Cox's Orange Pippin, but it wants good land to make the best of it. It
may with confidence be produced as a rarity across the walnuts and the
wine to the connossieur in apples.

In Covent Garden Market King Pippins are known as "Kings"; Cox's
Orange Pippins as "C.O.P.'s"; Cellinis as "Selinas"; Kerry pippins as
"Careys"; _Court pendu plat_ as "Corpendus"; and the pear, _Josephine
de Malines_ as "Joseph on the palings"! The Wellington is sold as
"Wellington," but in the markets of the large northern towns it is
known as "Normanton Wonder."

In Worcestershire St. Swithin's Day, July 15, is called
"apple-christening day," when a good rain often gives a great impetus
to their growth, and a little later great quantities of small apples
may be seen under the trees; this is Nature's method of limiting the
crop to reasonable proportions, the weak ones falling off and the
fittest surviving. The inexperienced grower may be somewhat alarmed by
this apparent destruction of his prospects, but the older hand knows
better, and my bailiff always said: "When I sees plenty of apples
under the trees about midsummer, I knows there'll be plenty to pick
towards Michaelmas."

The Blenheim Orange was the leading apple at Aldington; some kind
person had, sixty or seventy years before my time, planted a number of
trees which had thrived wonderfully on that rich land. The Blenheim is
a nice dessert apple and a splendid "cooker"; the trees take many
years to come into bearing, and then they make up for lost time.
Nature is never in a hurry to produce her best results. As a market
apple the Blenheim has a great reputation; if an Evesham fruit dealer
was asked if he could do with any apples, his first question was
always: "Be 'em Blemmins?"

"September blow soft till the fruit's in the loft," is the prayer of
all apple growers; it is pitiful to see, after a roaring gale, the
ground strewn with beautiful fruit, bruised and broken, useless to
keep, and only suitable for carting away to the all-devouring
cider-mill, though