ALONG THE HILLSBOBOUGH. 89 



voured wild oranges by the dozen, or in 

 place of sweet ones ; one sour orange goes 

 a good way, as the common saying is ; but I 

 ate them, nevertheless, or rather drank them, 

 and found them, in a thirsty hour, decidedly 

 refreshing. 



The unusual coldness of the past season 

 (Florida winters, from what I heard about 

 them, must have fallen of late into a queer 

 habit of being regularly exceptional) had 

 made it difficult to buy sweet oranges that 

 were not dry and " punky" l toward the stem ; 

 but the hardier wild fruit had weathered the 

 frost, and was so juicy that, as I say, you 

 did not so much eat one as drink it. As for 

 the taste, it was a wholesome bitter-sour, as 

 if a lemon had been flavored with quinine ; 

 not quite so sour as a lemon, perhaps, nor 

 quite so bitter as Peruvian bark, but, as 

 it were, an agreeable compromise between 

 the two. When I drank one, I not only 

 quenched my thirst, but felt that I had 

 taken an infallible prophylactic against the 

 malarial fever. Better still, I had surprised 

 myself. For one who had felt a lifelong 



1 I have heard this useful word all my life, and now 

 am surprised to find it wanting in the dictionaries. 



