The Democratic press. [volume] (Ravenna, O. [Ohio]) 1868-1901, 1885-07-16
TWO APPLES.
The One Burdette Bought of q Train
Boy and the Other One.

l bought the apple of the train-boy.
it to save human life; my own hu-
man life. did it to appease the train
boy, who had turned himself loose on
me at Council Bluffs, and was going to
make me buy something before we got
to ST. Joseph pronounced Sinjo, ac-
cent heavy on the JOY or lick me. He
wanted me to buy all of Prof. Mat
thews' books except the gospel, and
nine of E. p. Roe's novels, and Taylor's
"World on Wheels" and Between the
Gates" and seven or eight of Pinker-
toms fearful and wonderful detective
stories, and whole library of French
novels with very flashy titles and dis
appointingly tame reading. and some
California pears and Siberian oranges,
and some Alaska figs and Senegambian
grapes. some candy packages with q
beautiful prize and $40 bill in every
package except the one he sold me,
and some ivory ornaments made of ivory
that grows on trees, and some fresh
roasted peanuts which he assured me
were Geo. Washington's favorite fruit,
that would purify the blood, make the
hair curl, whiten the teeth, make the
complexion clear, and promote longev-
ity, and some English walnut meats,
vintage of 1888, railway guide of last
July and some apples.
reflected. did not think L ought
to buy all these things, because 1 have
family to support, and am not so
wealthy as am said to be by the solic-
iting committees of poverty-stricken
churches and tottering colleges. But
felt, as perhaps you have felt, thou
sand times, dear hearer, that l have TO
buy something of that boy. or lie down
on the floor of the car and die.
So bought apples. / selected ap-
Piles because they are palatable, nutri-
tious, and cheap. I asked him how he
sold his apples. With exceeding scorn
he said ''twoforacent" (Which by in
depreciation is, two for a cent?.
think he said two for a cent. / know
had just missed-a lecture engagement
by railroading into a snow-drift the
night before, and consequently had
just enough money left to buy one. in q
job lot.
bit it with great difficulty and little
joy, sing hey, the leathery fungus that
it was. l handed it back to the boy
and told him to keep it; he might want
to kill dog with it some day. The
boy, with the native independence of
his class, said that l didn't know 4
good apple when l got one. He
Opined, indeed, and very opinely, too,
in loud tone of expression, for the
benefit of the whole car, that when l
had any orchard fruit at home 1 re-
galed myself, like a prince, on dried
apples.
did not smite the boy or upbraid
him with hard and stinging words.
More, indeed, in sorrow than in anger
l told him l did know what a good ap-
pie was, and moreover, if he would
bring me one now my entire bank ac-
count, with all the heriditaments, pro-
tests, and overdrafts thereunto apper-
tanning, should be his. The only good
apples in the world, lineal descendants
OF the golden stock of Hesperides, used
to grow, twenty-five OF thirty years
ago, on an old farm three or four
miles out of Peoria, ILL.,, on the Mount
Holly road. 1 told the boy they were
not always fair apple to look upon in
their early youth, when l loved them
best They were hard ON one side and
all the way round and sour all the way
through. There was more heartache
and sorrow, and deep-seated, gnawing
remorse, and heartfelt sorrow, and
honest penitence in one of those apples,
after you had eaten peck of them in
the same afternoon, than there is now
in whole green watermelon.
Nevertheless used to 60 into that
orchard at a. M, eat apples till 11:3O,
and then feel hungry for a big dinner.
And l told the boy if he would bring
me one of those apples now, with the
same old taste and flavor that it had
a quarter OF a century gone by, with
the same old smell of the clover and
apple blossom lingering about it; the
same old idle breeze that kissed my
boyish cheeks in the long, delightful,
trrfant summer afternoons; with the
whistle of bob-white over in the stub
ble-field beyond the COW pasture; with
the murmur of the brook that went
singing over the white pebbles at the
foot of the orchard hill; with the muir
muir of the bees humming and buzzing
about the sweet red-clover tops; bring
them to me even with the old well-re-
membered and peculiarly pungent
flavor of the buggy whip which fire.
quently seasoned those apples-be-
cause no boy could always get over the
fence in time-I told him l would
gladly. gladly. gladly give him $50 for
just one apple.
But the boy looked at me with q
nameless fear, and backed off down
the aisle of the car, and touched the
conductor on the elbow and said:
bill! Say, Bill! Who has charge
of the lunatic on the wood-box?"
All, dearly beloved, there is no luna
cy about it. We know now, and some
day the boy will know, that apples are
not so good to-day as they were twen-
ty-five years ago. Nothing is SO good
to us, in fact. The apples are tough
and favorless; the grass is wiry and
thin where it used to be living velvet
under our feet; the days are not SO
long; the nights have grown COLDER
the stars shine less brightly and there
are not so many of them; counted
them the other night and there are
half dozen missing; the COWS don't
come home SO early; the dogs are
crosser; Christmas doesn't come SO
| close apart as it used to. Everything
changes except the circus. So runs
the world away. But it doesn't run
away with the coachman, thank the
gods. Which only goes to prove that
the world is much prouder and better
than the people who live in it.-BOt
Burdette in Brooklyn Eagle.