240 WITH THE FLOWERS AND TREES 



the brilliant scarlet flowers, which are succeeded in 

 autumn by the hard-husked, rusty-orange fruit, 

 bending the branches. Often, as one travels coun- 

 try roads, neglected bushes of it are passed by the 

 road side, the remnant of some ancient hedge a use 

 to which the pomegranate, like the lime now rarely 

 seen, was frequently put in the old days of cheap 

 land. Present-day Californians neglect the fruit al- 

 most entirely, in spite of the refreshing juiciness of 

 the thin watery pulp, which in taste is somewhat like 

 red currants with a dash of astringency. Perhaps 

 the abundance of other fruits not so exceedingly full 

 of seeds, causes this indifference, notwithstanding 

 the pomegranate's very great value for making into 

 a beverage peculiarly grateful in a warm climate. 

 Among Spanish-Calif ornians, Father 'Sullivan 

 tells me, a favorite postre or dessert was a heaping 

 plateful of fresh pomegranate seeds scooped from 

 the rind and served with sugar. Pomegranates were 

 also laid away on the fruit-shelf of the house 

 to dry, as apples back East are spread on the attic 

 floor; and in winter, though the rind was hard and 

 withered, the seeds were still juicy and refreshing 

 and were sucked out through a hole broken in the 

 rind. With the lover of pure beauty, the pome- 

 granate tree is always a favorite. The exquisite 

 coloring of the lovely buds and of the crumpled 



