248 TEXAS AND ARIZONA 



shade of red ; not scarlet, nor crimson, nor 

 orange, nor pink, but red. The plant stands a 

 foot or so in height and bears a dozen, more or 

 less, of rather large cup-shaped blossoms, the 

 lively color of which would attract notice in any 

 garden. 



A very different favorite of mine (I have been 

 intimate with it for a week) is a low inch- 

 high composite flower, of the size of a ten-cent 

 piece, with seven or eight white rays and a yel- 

 low disk ; a dwarf daisy, it looks to be, with 

 soft, cottony stem and leaves. It grows in the 

 driest and most barren places, and as I sit down 

 here and there on the hillsides to rest (looking 

 meanwhile at the green barley fields and the ever- 

 glorious mountains) I am sensibly happier if I 

 see this dainty bit of nature's loveliness (a child, 

 not a dwarf I take back the word) within my 

 hand's reach. It is the very flower to make a 

 pet of ; prettier by far than if it were taller and 

 showier. Cultivation would spoil it. It was made 

 for the desert. 



And this reminds me to say that, if the hills 

 are to be counted as part of the desert, as in rea- 

 son they may be, then the prophet's word has 

 been fulfilled, not partially but in all strictness. 

 The desert has blossomed like the rose. For the 

 slopes of the Tucson range are literally on fire 



