“I say!” exclaimed Lucy. “I do believe that's an apple tree.”
It was. They panted up the steep bank, forced their way through some brambles, and found themselves standing round an old tree that was heavy with large yellowish-golden apples as firm and juicy as you could wish to see.
“And this is not the only tree,” said Edmund with his mouth full of apple. “Look there—and there.”
“Why, there are dozens of them,” said Susan, throwing away the core of her first apple and picking her second. “This must have been an orchard—long, long ago, before the place went wild and the wood grew up.”