IN CALIFORNIA 45 



started out for an afternoon stroll one winter day; 

 "those palms over there, for instance, are from 

 China, these peppers from Peru and the eucalypts 

 from Australia. Those tall trees ahead of us, with 

 finely cut feathery leaves, more like bird plumes 

 than foliage, are jacarandas from Brazil, in some 

 respects the most regal of our naturalized tree citi- 

 zens. A jacaranda in June, when it is crowned with 

 great panicles of flowers as blue as Italian skies, 

 is a dream. But here is a row of natty little trees ' ' 

 we had turned now into a side street "that I love 

 quite as much. These are camphor trees from For- 

 mosa. Pinch one of those black berries that are 

 twinkling everywhere among the leaves, or one of 

 the shiny little leaves themselves, and smell the 

 liberated camphor. Yes, this is the source of gum 

 camphor in the Orient, but it takes about thirty 

 years, I believe, for the tree to be ripe for the busi- 

 ness, so it is hardly likely that California will go 

 in for it that is too slow for Americans. What 

 makes it a favorite here is first, its wholesome, 

 cheerful appearance in all sorts of weather dry or 

 wet, hot or cold and entire freedom from pests 

 maybe that's because of the camphor in it; and 

 secondly, its wonderful beauty in early spring when 

 the new leafage comes. Then the opening leaf buds 

 suffuse the whole tree with an exquisite glow of 



