But as soon as breakfast was over, Carl carried the stocking to one corner of the hut where stood another old chest; and laying out all his treasures thereon, he knelt down before it.
“Now begin,” he said. “But you mustn’t all talk at once. I guess I’ll hear the apples first, because I might want to eat ’em up. I don’t care which of them begins.”
THE STORY OF THE THREE APPLES.
“I assume to myself the task of relating our joint history,” said the largest of the three apples, “because I am perhaps the fairest minded of us all. The judgment and experience of my younger sister, Half-ripe, are as yet immature; and my little brother Knerly is unfortunately of a somewhat sour disposition, and therefore less likely to represent things in a pleasant light. My own name is Beachamwell.”
At this opening the two smaller apples rolled over in an uncomfortable sort of way, but said nothing.
“As for me,” continued Beachamwell, “I have not only been favoured with a southern exposure, but I have also made the most of whatever good influences were within my reach; and have endeavoured to perfect myself in every quality that an apple should have. You perceive not only the fine rounding of my shape, but also the perfect and equal colour of my cheeks. My stem is smooth and erect, and my eye precisely in a line with it; and if I could be cut open this minute I should be found true to my heart’s core. I am also of a very tender disposition, being what is usually called thin-skinned; and a very slight thing would make a permanent and deep impression. My behaviour towards every one has always been marked by the most perfect smoothness, and on intimate acquaintance I should be found remarkably sweet and pleasant.”
“You’d better not say any more about yourself at present, Beachamwell,” said Carl, “because I might eat you up before you got through your story, and that would be bad. Let’s hear about Half-ripe and Knerly.”
“My sister Half-ripe,” said Beachamwell, “though with the same natural capabilities as myself, has failed to improve them. Instead of coming out into the warm and improving society of the sun and the wind, she has always preferred to meditate under the shade of a bunch of leaves; and though in part she could not help doing credit to her family, you will perceive that her time has been but half improved,—it is only one of her cheeks that has the least proper colour, while the other displays the true pale green tint of secluded study; and even the seeds of influence and usefulness within her are but half matured; but mine will be found as dark as——”