Year: 1868




l have been sauntering about the gar
den In an innocently sensual mood, eating
fruit. A Londoner myself, for years 1
have been used to mock my country
friends for their belief in the productions
of their own trees. l have often said that
Coyent Garden was the best and cheapest
in the world; that if Londoners can not
sit under their own vine and fig tree, we
have among us the focus of all clmes the
very boss and navel Of the world of pulp
But [ am not quite sure now. | am not
quite sure whether fruit is always brought
to us as it should be. Pears and apples
no doubt bear careful carriage, and, how
evar suddenly they may ripen at last, are
a loag time reaching the perfection of ma
turity, even after they have been gather
ed but there is an essence which belongs
to most fruit, and which begins to vanish
the moment it is plucked. Even the
short transfer from the garden wall to the
dish at dessert can not be made without
the loss of some Of that subtle flavor which
is conveyed by the living stalk from the
sun-fed tree. Fruit should be eaten alive,
like oysters. There is an edge to the taste
of fresh-opened oyster. which comes, l
suppose, from the surprise he feels at be-
ing suddenly scooped out Of his she'll. In
few minutes this gives place to feeling
of alarm; and then, in an hour or two, to
one Of despair. When he is laid out with
his brethren in dish, the whole brood is
hopeless and sad. They can still taste of
life, but it is of life disappointed. But
the fresh-opened oyster has no time to
grow feverish or melancholy. He is
caught in state of serene unconscious
ness of sorrow. He has a sound mind in
a sound body, and is therefore wholesome
and nice. Allow him to reflect before his
dissolution, and the brightness of his spir-
it is gone. But the quick operation of
detaching him from his shell sends a
spasm through his being, which startles
all the latent excellence he may posses,
into sudden and unique perfection. If
eaten at this crisis the qualification which
an oyster is capable of giving to the supe-
- ,o1 =, Al;


So analogously, believe, is it in eating
fruit. 1t must be eaten alive, before the
reaction begins to set in from its severance
from the lfe-carrying stem. While q
plum, for example, hangs on its stock, 1t
is in some kind Of magnetic correspond
ence with all the powers of nature, it
shares the life of the earth and the sky
it has sunshine in its veins, and dew in its
cells. Cut it off, and in time it dies, cor.
rupt, unwholesome; and every moment in
its progress from life to death is by de.
cadence of that essence which makes fruit
delicious. Therefore supposing that you
pluck it ripe, the sooner plum is eaten
the better for you. This of course applies
most to tender. thin-skinned fruit. a
firm apple dies slowly. A nut holds out
long against the debasing influence of sep
aration from its source of life. But figs
plums, peaches, apricots, and stra wberries
begin to suffer directly after they are
gathered This is the case even with
pines, which are susceptible of bruises
but they contain such an apparent sur.
plusage of flavor, that the first stages o.
their decay are not perceived, except by {
cunning palate.


think the morning is the best time fol
fruit, / am not quite sure, though. The
afternoon Is good. But don't recon
mend fruit with the dew on it. Let the
fruit get its own breakfast before you eat
it yourself. 1t breakfasts on early sun
shine aud dew. 1t takes these good thing:
in, and smiles upon itself and the world
just as you do half an hour after pleasant
breakfast. Eat it while it is in this hu
NOR, by no means in the raw and early
morning; thus you have the young fresh
ness and virgin flavor Of the fruit. 1t ha
another character later in the day, when i
is filled with sunshine; then l think it il
sweeter. 1t does not express, perhaps
the same exquisite accuracy of character
istic flavor, but its capacity for richness il
then at its fullest stretch. Its pulp is no
less juicy, though it is more general thar
special in its character and moreover, j
impresses you with sense of the contras
between the dry weary air of the day anC
the reserve of freshness latent in the
hanging plum.


/ am full Of plum -seutime ent just now;


Those Coe plums, yellow, semi transpar
ent, Juno-like in the large queen-lik
J plumpness, and the firm maturity of thei
flesh, hanging ripe and silent among tn
leaves upon the wall, with wasp poise,
in the air looking for some scious crevic
In their rind in which to settle to fill hi