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The fruit is produced only once in two years, and in bearing-season the tree is loaded with white blossoms that drop to the ground like flakes of snow. It is said that not one in a hundred of these numerous flowers becomes an olive. Here," continued Miss Harson, pointing to a page of a book in her hand, "is a representation of an olive-branch with some of the plum-shaped fruit.
Captain B. preferred the Trungah, another first-rate sort, which are plum-shaped, and taste something like a plum. There are also the Monachah, which are larger than the other two, dryer and more mealy, and not so sweet as Degalah, and other sorts.
Half a million trees in that county show the bright yellow fruit and fragrant blossoms every month in the year. The other southern counties also raise lemons by the car-load to send east, or for your lemonade and lemon pies at home. There, too, the olive grows well, that little plum-shaped fruit you usually see as a green, salt pickle on the table.
It is a handsome tree of our tropical North coast, and bears a large plum-shaped fruit of a dark purple colour, with dark reddish purple flesh, which is extremely acid, but which is well worth cultivation. Several species of eugenias also produce edible fruit, and there are two species of wild raspberries common to our scrubs.
The loquat-trees cluster like quinces in the garden closes, and show their pale golden, plum-shaped fruit. For the most part the road runs by still inland waters, but sometimes it climbs to the high downs beside the open sea, grotesque with wind-worn and wave-worn rocks, and beautiful with opalescent beaches, and the black legs of the negro children paddling in the tints of the prostrate rainbow.
The loquat-trees cluster like quinces in the garden closes, and show their pale golden, plum-shaped fruit. For the most part the road runs by still inland waters, but sometimes it climbs to the high downs beside the open sea, grotesque with wind-worn and wave-worn rocks, and beautiful with opalescent beaches, and the black legs of the negro children paddling in the tints of the prostrate rainbow.
She soon forgot the fright of her boy-bandit, although she did wonder just where the boys were, and if they had found any evidence of that person's depradations. "Come Cricket," she spoke to her pony. "We must try a cross-cut. I want some mandrakes." The horse pricked up his ears in response. Dorothy turned into a field where she thought the plum-shaped fruit would be found.
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