salt and water,
when they are ready for export."

"That's what they taste of," exclaimed Malcolm--"salt; and I don't like
salt things."

"I think," said his governess, with a smile, "that I have seen a boy
whom I know enjoying sliced ham and tongue very much indeed."

"So I do, Miss Harson," was the eager reply; "but ham and tongue, you
know, don't taste like olives."

"No, because they are ham and tongue. But they certainly taste salty,
and that is what you object to. It is generally found that sweeping
assertions are not very safe ones. But to come back to our olive tree:
it is an evergreen, and it grows very easily. The readiness with which a
twig will take root reminds us of the willow. A fine grove of olive
trees at Messa, in Morocco, was accidentally planted. It is said that
one of the kings of the dynasty of Saddia, being on a military
expedition, encamped here with his army. The pegs with which the cavalry
picketed their horses were cut from olive trees in the neighborhood,
and, some sudden cause of alarm leading to the abandonment of the
position, the pegs were left in the ground. Making the best of the
situation, the pegs developed into the handsomest group of olive trees
in the district."

The children wondered if any trees had ever been planted in such a
strange way before, and little Edith said thoughtfully,

"But, Miss Harson, why don't good people go around and plant trees
wherever there aren't any? It would be so nice!"

"Some good people do plant trees, dear, wherever they can," replied her
governess, "thinking, as they say, of those who are to come after them;
a great many roadside trees have grown in this way. But no one is
allowed to meddle with other people's property; waste-places might
easily be beautified with trees if the owners cared for anything but for
their own present interests. But here is something you will like to
hear about the olives of Palestine: 'They are all planted together in
the grove like the trees in a forest, and it would seem scarcely
possible for the owners to distinguish their own property. But when the
fruit is getting ripe, watchmen are appointed to guard the grove and
prevent a single olive from being touched even by the person who has a
right to the tree.'--You do not look as if you would like
that, Malcolm."

[Illustration: OLIVE TREE.--GATHERING THE FRUIT.]

"Indeed I wouldn't!" replied the boy. "I rather think I'd take my own
olives whenever I wanted 'em