The Findlay Jeffersonian. [volume] (Findlay, Hancock County, Ohio) 1870-1881, 1876-05-19
THE OLD APPLE TREE.
A FRAGMENT

A FRAGMENT
Yesi it was very beautiful, even in
the brick red city; for the swallows
had come back again, and the air was
filled with the song of birds, and with
the laughter of children, and with the
many household noises that came
through the once more-opened win
dows: for it was the Spring time, and
lovely thoughts ard fancies that had
lain, like the flower roots, buried under
the frost and snow, sprang up, all bios
{ soming, in peoples hearts, and looked
from their eyes.
And there was great old apple tree
that stood in little yard, stretching
out its long arms into the street, so
loaded with rose-white blossoms that
one could scarcely see the delicate
green leaves that were unfolding them
selves in the seeming moonlight of the
blooming bougbs. Old men looked up
as they passed under it, and smiled, with
an unconscious blessing, for it recalled
their faI-off boyhood: and little chill
dren danced around it, and clapped
their hands in glee; and when the sun
shone each little flower leaf was like a
crystal mirror, to throw his warm
beams down upon the green bud that
lay almost hidden in the bottom of its
tremulous cup; and the birds came
there and built their nests, and the
filmy spider-webs in the early morning
were all braided with pearls and dia-
monds, SO that with the bloom, and the
fragrance, and the melody, there was
nothing more lovely in the whole city.
But the little green bud grew larger
larger, until at last the iiower-cup could
no longer hide it. And then the rose
leaves fell off, and the wind carried
them away on its soft wings, until the
air was so filed with them that the
children shouted ont, ''the snowi the
snowp Then, as the Summer came on,
the sun looked, day after day, with a
more beaming eye upon the old tree in
its beautiful adornment of green, until
the young apples blushed, for they
were no longer hidden by the bridal
wells of the white flower leaves.
Yet it was STILL very beautiful; for
the light and shade came there to play
at hide-and seek, and the winds chased
each. other over, and around, and
through the emerald -leaved branches
that swayed here and there, weaving
Pickering and fantastic shadows on
the grass beneath; and myriad in
sects, all cleaning with crimson and
gold, scared above it in the bright sun
light, and ever and anon some bird,
from within his green rooted home,
poured out his soul in such gushing
melody. that those who heard were
carried afar among the purple hills,
and so weht ON to their daily cares
with lighter heart and more hope
ful spirit. But when the summer was
gone, and the brown, withered leaves
fell dead upon the earth, they stored
away the ripe fruit, and the song of
birds was hushed, and the beauty and
the gladness were no more. But an
artist poet, Who loved whatever was
brightly akin to his own glowing Wis
ions, painted b, sket of the golden
apples, with their cheeks flushed like
the crimson sunset, aud whoever look
ed upon that artists work with the
hearts true love of nature, saw there
in the biossolning tree, with the sun
light shiInmering through its branches.
and heard once more the voices of tie
birds, and the evening breezes, and the
sporting of the happy little children.
Then, deep in their inmost souls, they
thanked God for the pefecting of the
beautiful prophecy of the Spring time,
and also for the revealing that what
/ ever.is lovely passes away only to give
place to something nobler and more
enduring: ''First the blade, then the
ear, then the ripe corn in the ~
Pen and PloU