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OUR NEXT-DOOR NEIGHBOR.

among the trees of the wood, clad in its many-colored robe, fragrant with that odor that gives it the headship in sweetness over all the trees of the garden. It is not impossible that this is the very tree of which Eve partook, and that its Edenic supremacy is still not largely lost. Whether so or no, the loving wife was right in her comparison, and this wood proves true, in that respect, that song of monogamy by a polygamic transgressor, that song of the spiritual longings and lovings of the Church and her husband, the Christ: "As the apple-tree among the trees of the wood, so is my beloved among the sons."

We cross the brook we had sauntered near so long, and pull up a steep grade; in fact, get off and pull our horses up, it is so steep. The road becomes less and less a road, and my guide is bewildered. He has lost his path. It is the second time already, and we not a quarter of our journey done. Across the ravine he spies a wood-cutter, and speaks softly to him. It is remarkable how low a voice they use in making inquiries. His was not above a drawing-room pitch. Is it humility or good breeding? A little of both, probably. The wood-cutter answers alike softly, but distinctly; we drag our horses down again, recross the brook, which we should have ever kept on our left, and pull up a steeper pitch, pass our wood-cutting befriender, through another long and shaded and luscious ravine—how summery cool it was!—and out upon a rancho, the midway spot of the journey.

The men and women and babies stared respectfully, and said "Adios" prettily. The men take off their hats usually as they meet us, especially the elderly ones. The young ones, if not very young, are more independent.

The rancho leads us up on the tepitati (I spell by the ear), a volcanic rock that is hardly a rock. It seems soft, and sounds hollow. It whitens under the hoofs of horses, and glistens like marble dust in the hot glare. It abounds all over this land; you strike it on almost every road, a soil seemingly without possibility of culture, yet a substance used in lighter buildings. It is a long climb up its white face, along a white ridge, and up another like white