280 OUTDOOR STUDIES 
head a great graceful basket of yellow treasures. 
Opposite our window there is a wall by which 
they rest themselves, after their three-mile walk 
from the gardens. There they lounge and there 
they chatter. Little boys come slyly to pilfer 
oranges, and are pelted away with other oranges ; 
for a single orange has here no more appreci- 
able value than a single apple in our farmers’ 
orchards ; and, indeed, the windfalls are left to 
decay in both cases. During this season one 
sees oranges everywhere, even displayed as a 
sort of thank-offering on the humble altars 
of country churches; the children’s lips and 
cheeks assume a chronic yellowness ; and the 
narrow sidewalks are strewn with bits of peel, 
punched through and through by the boys’ pop- 
guns, as our boys punch slices of potato. 
All this procession files down, the whole day 
long, to the orange yards by the quay. There 
one finds another merry group, or a series of 
groups, receiving and sorting the fragrant loads, 
papering, packing, boxing. Inthe gardens there 
seems no end to the varieties of the golden 
fruit, although only one or two are here being 
packed. There are shaddocks, zaméoas, limes, 
sour lemons, sweet lemons, oranges proper, and 
Tangerinhas ; these last being delicate, per- 
fumed, thin-skinned miniature fruit from the 
land- of the Moors. One may begin to eat 
