230 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



in every field; meadowlarks drop their ordered, 

 liquid melody from fence rail and gate post; bees 

 are plundering the white blossoms that swing in 

 clusters from the blue-gum boughs. There is a 

 whiff of mingled violets and petunias from the beds 

 that border a ranch entrance, and roses, white 

 and red, are blooming in the hedge. Far off in the 

 hills, which are whitening under the opening blooms 

 of wild lilac, the quails are calling ; in the vineyards 

 the pruners are cutting back last year's branches to 

 two eyes, whistling in the sunshine as they work; 

 and plowmen with teams of six or eight horses are 

 turning up the dark soil for the barley sowing. The 

 Professor is as happy as a schoolboy, and I detect 

 in the song he is humming a bar of "I love you, 

 California." 



Ahead of us glows a hillside which owes its color 

 to the ruddy twigs of an apricot orchard not yet in 

 leaf. The Professor points to it and observes: 



''With all that has been said about the apple in 

 the Scriptures, do you know that nobody yet can tell 

 just what fruit is meant ? Some say it is the quince, 

 some the citron, and there are others who claim it 

 was really the apricot. Certainly this has been a 

 favorite fruit in Syria and Palestine, and apricot- 

 paste, dried in the sun, softened with olive oil, and 

 made up into little rolls, is one of the famous foods 



