It would be a pleasant pastime to
find suitable names for the hundred varieties which
go to a single heap at the cider-mill. Would it
not tax a man’s invention, no one
to be named after a man, and all in the lingua
vernacula? Who shall stand god-father at the
christening of the wild apples? It would exhaust
the Latin and Greek languages, if they were used,
and make the lingua vernacula flag.
We should have to call in the sunrise and the sunset,
the rainbow and the autumn woods and the wild flowers,
and the woodpecker and the purple finch, and the squirrel
and the jay and the butterfly, the November traveller
and the truant boy, to our aid.
In 1836 there were in the garden of
the London Horticultural Society more than fourteen
hundred distinct sorts. But here are species which
they have not in their catalogue, not to mention the
varieties which our Crab might yield to cultivation.
Let us enumerate a few of these. I find myself
compelled, after all, to give the Latin names of some
for the benefit of those who live where English is
not spoken, for they are likely to have
a world-wide reputation.
There is, first of all, the Wood-Apple
(Malus sylvatica); the Blue-Jay Apple; the Apple
which grows in Dells in the Woods (sylvestrivallis),
also in Hollows in Pastures (campestrivallis); the
Apple that grows in an old Cellar-Hole (Malus
cellaris); the Meadow-Apple; the Partridge-Apple;
the Truant’s Apple (Cessatoris), which no
boy will ever go by without knocking off some, however
late it may be; the Saunterer’s Apple, you
must lose yourself before you can find the way to
that; the Beauty of the Air (Decks Aeris); December-Eating;
the Frozen-Thawed (gelato-soluta), good
only in that state; the Concord Apple, possibly the
same with the Musketa-quidensis; the Assabet Apple;
the Brindled Apple; Wine of New England; the Chickaree
Apple; the Green Apple (Malus viridis); this
has many synonyms; in an imperfect state, it is the
Cholera morbifera aut dysenterifera, puerulis
dilectissima; the Apple which Atalanta
stopped to pick up; the Hedge-Apple (Malus Sepium);
the Slug-Apple (limacea); the Railroad-Apple, which
perhaps came from a core thrown out of the cars; the
Apple whose Fruit we tasted in our Youth; our Particular
Apple, not to be found in any catalogue, Pedestrium
Solatium; also the Apple where hangs the Forgotten
Scythe; Iduna’s Apples, and the Apples which
Loki found in the Wood; and a great many more I
have on my list, too numerous to mention, all
of them good. As Bodaeus exclaims, referring
to the culti-vated kinds, and adapting Virgil
to his case, so I, adapting Bodaeus,
“Not if I had a hundred tongues,
a hundred mouths,
An iron voice, could I describe
all the forms
And reckon up all the names
of these wild apples.”