::::::::siv WALKS IN THE CACTUS COUNTRY ;*::::::::: 



naturally into the landscape, seeming more like nat- 

 ural dunes or mounds than artificial productions of 

 mankind. Here we stood and watched these dusky 

 natives hew out the very ground, add a little water, 

 mould into large rectangles, pile one upon the other, 

 and lo ! one's house is built ! No wonder the outer 

 walls become lichened and weathered as soon as they 

 are erected. The adventitious vines and weeds which 

 sprout from wall and roof grow from seeds which, 

 like the Egyptian wheat kernels, may have been long- 

 buried beneath the barren pumice. A home well worth 

 living in, where one can plant flowers and vines in 

 the walls from base to roof, where one's window-pot 

 of bloom may root, not in the pots, but in the very 

 window-sill itself ! Why not a kitchen garden growing 

 on the kitchen, where are earthen furrows, instead of 

 lapping shingles ! 



How close to Nature one seems to live thus ! closer 

 to Mother Earth than did Thoreau at Walden ; and yet 

 when this framework of mud is clothed within with 

 clean plaster, in rooms cool-tiled and with ceilings of 

 taut linen, sleep and study and the joy of very life 

 come in pleasantest forms. 



It is in the making of gardens and to the lover of 

 flowers that one thinks of -d patio as ideal. Pitiful is 

 the remembrance of the unfortunate plants which strug- 

 gle for life in the steam-heated houses of the North, 

 when we see our Mexican indoor, open-air garden. 



«4 39 ^ 



