Plunder
Let’s go plunder apples.
In the back garden of the home in Scotland there was an apple tree which had great apples; brightly colored, crisp and sweet with just a hint of tartness. Now you would think there would be no interest in savoring other apples; but I do remember one occasion when someone suggested to my next oldest brother that we go plunder apples in the Abbey Orchard. Naturally I tagged along; the runt of the group and, having typed that, I am reminded that the runt was also our name for the core of an apple.
I am sure that the owner of the orchard was just as keen to protect his applies as we were in watching for lads coming to steal apples from our tree. It was not unusual to see a boy or boys climbing up the wall and shouting, “Gies an aipple”. That’s me tryiny to type with a Scottish accent.
There were occasions when there was no request; someone would climb the wall and head for the apple tree. Some times someone in the house would see what was happening and the cry would be up, “They’re after the apples”. One brother would dash out the front door, another would wait a second or two; then head out the back door. There was a mad scramble over the wall by the plunderers who became caught in the closed lane at the back. A pincer movement.
Nothing was ever done; except to give them a good scare and be sure they left with no apples.
