IN CALIFORNIA 275 



mine pours its liquid gold over roofs and gateways. 

 Banksia roses, white and buff, and coppery Gold of 

 Ophir, snowy Lamarcks and Beve d' Or in apricot 

 yellow, rise everywhere in fountains of color that 

 not infrequently bury whole houses beneath the in- 

 credible lavishness of their bloom. In cholos' cot- 

 tage-gardens and on millionaires' estates, in the 

 strips of parkings that line the residential streets 

 of cities between curb and sidewalk, on wayside 

 country banks and by ranchers' gates, bedding 

 plants of every known sort often self seeded 

 blaze in colorful masses gazanias and verbenas in 

 lakes of vivid orange, red, pink and white; meseni- 

 bryanthemums dripping crimson and yellow from 

 bank and wall; airy Spanish iris and the blue and 

 white flags of the old home; petunias, nasturtiums 

 dwarf and giant, pansies by the million; Shasta 

 daisies as big as saucers, gaillardias, dazzling 

 patches of eschscholtzias, geraniums climbing up 

 palm trunks and house walls ; poppies of every sort, 

 snowy borders of sweet alyssum, and roses, roses, 

 roses. 



Yes, if you want to see the gardens of California 

 at their flowery best, to say nothing of the wonder- 

 ful wild gardens that Nature alone tends, the spring 

 is the season of all that you should not miss. 



"A California spring may not be absolutely per- 



