the Walnut, the Willow, the Ivy, the Laurel and the Myrtle. Of flowers
there is a profusion in San Francisco. They bloom on every hand; and
wherever there is a bit of ground or lawn in front of a house there
you will see plants or flowers in blossom. Fuschias attain the height
of ten feet in some places and are magnificent in the colour and
beauty of their flowers. The heliotrope climbs up its support with
eagerness and its blossoms vie in hue with the blue skies. You may
also see the pink flowers of the Malva plant in abundance, the chaste
mignonette and the Australian pea-vine. The latter is a favourite and
clothes the bare walls of fence or house or trellis with a robe of
beauty which queens might envy. Roses are rich and fragrant, white and
pink chiefly, and delight the eye, no matter which way you turn. The
Acacia grows here in San Francisco as if it were native to the soil;
and the Monterey Cypress, green and beautiful, makes a handsome hedge,
or, when given room and air, it attains to stately proportions. Here
also you will find the Eucalyptus tree in its perfection, stately in
form with its ivy-green foliage, and you look upon it with an admiring
eye. California may be truly called a land of flowers as well as a
land of fruits; and we err not in judgment when we say that close
association with these beautiful products of the earth has a refining
and an uplifting influence on the human heart. A man who has love for
a flower is brought near to the Lord of the flowers, Who said as He
walked over the meadows of Palestine--"Consider the lilies of the
field, how they grow." So they have their sweet message of love and
gentleness and peace for all, yes, these "stars of the earth," as the
poet calls them. Such thoughts come to you as you gaze on the rich
gardens of San Francisco and note their wealth of bright blossoms,
brightening man's life and filling his soul with poetry and sentiment
and longing for the beautiful and for the good.