they knew him as a saint, john the baptist of the wilderness. about the essential man, they knew almost nothing. it's as if john chapman was rehearsing from the part of johnny appleseed all night. now i'd like to read the short epilogue which i close the book. it won't spoil or take too long. the epilogue is called my johnny. a close friend, a lawyer with a great heart has a vision of john chapman building and planting his seeds, twirling the whole night long in rapturous concord which whatever he can see as a universal devine. i can see that. chapman, appleseed, whatever you call him, god talked to him through every tree, leaf, rock, every beast great and small. how would he not twirl in joy? johnny's famous loneliness might now have been so lonely after all. as william d. howe wrote, if we are surrounded by spirits, evil or good which our evil or good behavior invites, then the harmless, loving, half crazy man walked daily with the angels of god. i could also see henry david thoreau in chapman. instead at the moment john chapman lay dying in fo