42 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



long, plumy sprays of acacia bloom, like so much 

 sublimated sunshine. At least one species, the wil- 

 lowy looking Acacia floribunda, flowers through- 

 out the year though temperately. After I had be- 

 come somewhat used to the sight of acacias, and 

 thought I had begun to know them for acacias off- 

 hand, I realized one day, that like the palms, they 

 fall into two classes as to leaves one sort with pin- 

 nate, or feather-like foliage, and the other, with 

 leaves that are entire. To the latter division be- 

 longs the blackwood acacia (A. melanoxylon) , ex- 

 tensively planted along streets in some sections of 

 the State because of the dense shade cast by its 

 rather somber crown. I mentioned the fact of my 

 discovery in leaves to my neighbor the Professor, 

 as we stood chatting one summer day beneath the 

 grateful shadow of a blackwood. 



"My boy," he observed with an indulgent smile, 

 "you are quite wrong. Acacia leaves are always 

 pinnate, when there are any. Many species are 

 leafless. This blackwood that we stand under with 

 umbrage so thick that it would turn a hard shower, 

 is absolutely leafless. You think that's another 

 California big yarn, but it's hard fact." 



He snapped off a twig, and pointed to what cer- 

 tainly looked like a flat, straight-veined, straight- 



