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sleep； found more than enough to interest them on this dusty
California road； winding as it did through grand old growths of
trees； acres and acres of waving grain； and endless stretches of
gorgeous yellow mustard； the stalks of which were five or six feet
high； almost hiding from view the boys who dashed into the golden
forest from time to time。
At the foot of the hill they passed an old adobe hut； with a crowd of
pretty； swarthy； frowzy Mexican children playing in the sunshine；
while their mother； black…haired and ample of figure； occupied
herself in hanging great quantities of jerked beef on a sort of
clothes…line running between the eucalyptus…trees。
The father； a wild…looking individual in a red shirt and enormous
hat； came from behind the hut； unhitched the stout little broncho
tied to the fence； gave the poor animal a desperately tight 'cinch；'
threw himself into the saddle without touching his foot to the
lumbering wooden stirrups； and； digging his spurs well into the
horse's sides； was out of sight in an instant； leaving only a huge
cloud of dust to cover his disappearance。
'How those fellows do ride！' exclaimed Dr。 Winship； savagely。 'I
wish they were all obliged to walk until they knew how to treat a
horse。'
'Then they'd walk straight into the millennium；' said Jack； sagely；
'for their cruelty seems to be an instinct。'
'But how beautifully they ride； too！' said Polly。 'Mamma and I were
sitting on the hotel piazza the other day； watching two young
Spaniards who were performing feats of horsemanship。 They dropped
four…bit pieces on the dusty road； and riding up to them at full
speed clutched them from the ground in some mysterious way that was
perfectly wonderful。 Then Nick Gutierrez mounted a bucking horse；
and actually rolled and lighted a cigarette while the animal bucked
with all his might。'
'See that cunning； cunning muchachita； mamma！' cried Bell； for； as
they stopped at the top of the hill to let the horses breathe； one of
the little Mexican children ran after them； holding out a handful of
glowing yellow poppies。
She was distractingly pretty； with a beauty that is short…lived with
the people of her race。 The afternoon sun shone down fiercely on her
waving coal…black locks； and brought a rich colour to her nut…brown
cheek； she had one little flimsy； ragged garment； neither long；
broad； nor thick； which hung about her picturesquely； and； with her
soft； dark； sleepy eyes； the rows of little white teeth behind her
laughing red mouth； and the vivid yellow blossoms in her tiny
outstretched hand； she was a very charming vision。
'Como te llamas； muchachita？' （What is your name； little one？） asked
Bell； airing her Spanish； which was rather good。
'Teresita；' she answered； with a pretty accent； as she scratched a
set of five grimy little toes to and fro in the dusty ground。
'Throw her a bit； papa；' whispered Bell； and； as he did so； Teresita
caught the piece of silver very deftly； and ran excitedly back to the
centre of the chattering group in front of the house。
'How intense everything is in California！ Do you know what I mean；
mamma？' said Bell。 'The fruit is so immense； the canyons so deep；
the trees so big； the hills so high； the rain so wet； and the drought
so dry。'
'The fleas so many； the fleas so spry；' chanted Jack； who had
perceived that Bell was talking in rhyme without knowing it。
'California is just the place for you； Bell； it gives you a chance
for innumerable adjectives heaped one on the other。'
'I don't always heap up adjectives；' replied Bell； with dignity。
'When I wish to describe you； for instance； I simply say 〃that
hateful boy；〃 and let it go at that。'
Jack retired to private life for a season。
'I'd like to paint a picture of Teresita；' said Margery； who had a
pretty talent for sketching； 'and call it The Summer Child； or some
such thing。 I should think the famous old colour artists might have
loved to paint this gorgeous flame…tinted poppy。'
'Not poppy；eschscholtzia；' corrected Jack； coming rapidly to the
surface again； after Bell's rebuke； and delivering himself of the
tongue…confusing word with a terrible grimace。
'I'm not writing a botany；' retorted Margery； 'and I can never
remember that word； much less spell it。 I don't see how it grows
under such an abominable Russian name。 It's worse than
ichthyosaurus。 Do you remember that funny nonsense verse？ …
〃I is for ichthyosaurus；
Who lived when the world was all porous；
But he fainted with shame
When he first heard his name；
And departed a long while before us。〃'
'The Spaniards are more poetic；' said Aunt Truth； 'for they call it
la copa de oro； the golden cup。 Oh； see them yonder！ It is like the
Field of the Cloth of Gold。'
The sight would have driven a royal florist mad with joy： a hillside
that was a swaying mass of radiant bloom； a joyous carnival of vivid
colour； in which the thousand golden goblets； turned upward to the
sun； were dancing； and glowing； and shaming out of countenance the
purple and blue and pink masses which surrounded them on every side。
'You know Professor Pinnie told us that every well…informed young
girl should know at least the flora of her own State；' said Jack；
after the excitement had subsided。
'Well； one thing is certain： Professor Pinnie never knew the STATE
of his own flora； or at least he kept his wife sorting and arranging
his specimens all the time； and I think he's a regular old frump；'
said Polly； irreverently； but meeting Aunt Truth's reproving glance；
which brought a blush and a whispered 'Excuse me；' she went on；
'Well； what I mean is； he doesn't know any more than other people；
after all； for he cares for nothing but bushes and herbs and seeds
and shrubs and roots and stamens and pistils； and he can't tell
whether a flower is lovely or not； he is so crazy to find out where
it belongs and tie a tag round it。'
'I must agree with Polly；' laughed Jack。 'Why； I went to ride with
him one day in the Cathedral Oaks； and he made me get off my horse
every five minutes to dig up roots and tie them to the pommel of his
old saddle； so that we came into town looking like moving herbariums。
The stable…man lifted him on to his horse when he started； I suppose；
and he would have been there yet if he hadn't been helped off。 Bah！'
For Jack had a supreme contempt for any man who was less than a
centaur。
By this time they had turned off the main thoroughfare； and were
travelling over a bit of old stage road which was anything but easy
riding。 There they met some men who were driving an enormous band of
sheep to a distant ranch for pasture； which gave saucy Polly the
chance to ask Dr。 Winship； innocently； why white sheep ate so much
more than black ones。
He fell into the trap at once； and answered unsuspectingly； in a
surprised tone； 'Why； do they？' giving her the longed…for opportunity
to respond； 'Yes； of course； because there are so many more of 'em；
don't you see？'
'You are behind the times； Dr。 Paul；' said Jack。 'That's an ancient
joke。 Just look at those sheep； sir。 How many are there？ Eight
hundred； say？'
'Even more； I should