ich groves of olive trees. We were
traveling through Temecula on our way to Elsinore, a town of hot
springs. There we spent a comfortable night at a hotel situated on a
little lake. The lake in the evening light with the olive orchards
stretching down to its waters from the foothills opposite was very
charming. From Elsinore we drove on in the morning through an open
canyon, where Matilija poppies grew plentifully, to Corona. Corona is a
lovely little town belted by an encircling boulevard, broad and shaded.
It lies in a fertile valley whose plains and hill-slopes are covered by
thousands of lemon trees, tended with a mother's care. Above the valley
rise the mountains on the distant horizon. One can see lemons being
gathered, flowers blooming, and new groves being planted in the valley,
and then look up to snow-capped peaks beyond. Here lemon orchards are
valued at $2,000 and more an acre. When the trees have reached the
bearing stage and are in good condition, lemon orchard land is a gold
mine. We heard of people who rented their orchards on the basis of
$2,000 value per acre, receiving interest on that valuation. We heard
also of successful lemon growers who had purchased large acreages of
lemon-bearing land at $1,000 per acre and who had within two years after
purchase marketed a crop of lemons whose selling price covered the
entire amount paid for the orchard two years before.

[Illustration: 1. Pala Mission. 2. Hillside Orchard in California.]

We visited a big packing house and saw dark eyed Sicilians, alert and
prosperous, sorting, cleaning, and packing the lemons. Everything
proceeded with swiftness and yet with orderliness. Down the long troughs
rolled the lemons, each gravitating through a hole according to its
size. Into a bubbling cauldron they were gently railroaded, where
brushes from above and from below washed them and pushed them on. With
much deftness packers caught a square of tissue paper with the left
hand, a lemon with the right hand and wrapped the fruit. The filled box
was pushed along a polished runway to the inspector. He deftly and
quickly looked the box over, decided whether the packing was close and
firm, nailed on a top, and bound the box with supporting iron bands. It
was then ready to go into the freight car on the track a few feet away,
where experienced men were loading the car with the yellow fruit. We
were told that notwithstanding competition with the Sicilian and Italian
fruit, Cal