Indeed, the Vraibleusians
themselves had suffered so severely from their late indiscretions that
such excesses were not likely again to occur. People began to discover
that it was not quite so easy a thing as they had imagined for every man
to be his own Fruiterer; and that gardening was a craft which, like
others, required great study, long practice, and early experience.
Unable to supply themselves, the majority became the victims of quack
traders. They sickened of spongy apricots, and foxy pears, and withered
plums, and blighted apples, and tasteless berries. They at length
suspected that a nation might fare better if its race of fruiterers were
overseen and supported by the State, if their skill and their market
were alike secured. Although, no longer being tempted to suffer from a
surfeit, the health of the Islanders had consequently recovered, this
was, after all, but a negative blessing, and they sadly missed a luxury
once so reasonable and so refreshing. They sighed for an established
fruit and a protected race of cultivators.
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