CHAPTER VI.

_THE OLIVE TREE_.

"The ash," said Miss Harson, "has some relations of which, I think, you

will be rather surprised to hear. These relations are both trees and

shrubs, and the lilac, for instance, is one of them."

"Why, they don't look a bit alike," exclaimed Clara.

"No, they certainly do not; for, although this fragrant shrub often

grows as large as a tree, it is quite different from the ash tree. Yet

both belong to the olive family."

"The kind of olives that papa likes to eat at dinner, and that you and I

_don't_ like, Miss Harson?" asked Malcolm.

"The very same," replied his governess; "only that we are speaking now

of the tree on which the olives grow. It is well said that the very name

of 'olive' suggests the idea of Palestine and the sunny lands of the

East. The olive tree is one of the most prominent trees of the Bible. It

is mentioned in the very earliest part of the Scriptures, in the book of

Genesis. I wonder if some one can tell me about it?"

"I remember: a dove found a leaf when it was raining and brought it to

Noah in the ark," said little Edith, quickly.

"The rain had stopped falling, dear, after the deluge, and the waters

were receding, or falling, when Noah sent forth the dove a second time

to see what it would find. Here is the verse: 'And the dove came in to

him in the evening; and lo, in her mouth was an olive leaf pluckt off;

so Noah knew that the waters were abated from off the earth[7].' For

this reason the olive-branch is a common emblem of peace. The olive tree

is often mentioned in other parts of the Bible, and was considered one

of the most valuable trees of Palestine, which is described as 'a land

of oil-olive and honey.' It is not nearly so handsome as some other

trees of the Holy Land, nor is it grand-looking or graceful. The

leaves, which are long for the width, and smooth, are dark green on the

upper side and silvery beneath; they generally grow in pairs. The fruit

is shaped like a plum; it is green when first formed, then paler in

color; and when quite ripe, it is black."

[7] Gen. viii. 9.

"But those that papa eats are olive-color," said Clara.

"Yes," replied Miss Harson, smiling, "but all these hues I have

mentioned are olive-color in some stage of the fruit; and it is in the

green stage, before it is quite ripe, that it is gathered for

preserving."

"But that isn't _preserves_, is it?" asked Malcolm, drawing up his mouth

at the recollection of an olive he had once tried to eat. "I thought

preserves were always sweet."

"That is the shape in which you are accustomed to them, Malcolm; but to

preserve a thing means to keep it from decay, and salt and vinegar will

do this as well as sugar. Preserves of this kind are what _you_ call

'puckery.'--As to the color, Clara, 'olive-green' is a color by itself,

because of its peculiar tint. It is a gray green instead of a blue or

yellow green, and it has a very dull effect. 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.

The branch, you see, is hard and stiff-looking."

[Illustration: OLIVE-BRANCH WITH FRUIT.]

"I should think the tree would be prettier when all those white flowers

are on it," said little Edith.

"It is--much prettier," replied her governess--"but not so useful. The

fruit of the olive is so valuable that numbers of people depend upon it

for their support. The wood, too, is very hard and durable, and, as it

takes a fine polish, it is used for making many ornamental articles."

"And where does the olive-oil come from?" asked Clara. "Do they make

holes in the tree for it, as they do for maple-sap?"

Malcolm was about to exclaim at this idea, but he remembered just in

time that, should Miss Harson happen to question him, he himself could

not tell where the oil came from.

"The oil is pressed from the olives," was the reply; "a large, vigorous

tree is said to yield a thousand pounds of it. It is such an important

article of commerce in the regions where it is prepared that every one

desires to get as much as he can out of his olive trees, but those who

are too greedy of gain will spoil the quality of the oil to make a

larger quantity. The small olive of Syria is considered the most

delicate, and Italian olives also are very fine; those of Spain are

larger and coarser. The best olive-oil comes from the south-eastern

portion of France and is a clear, pure liquid; it is obtained from the

first pressing of the fruit. This must be only a gentle squeeze, to get

the purest oil: the quality usually sold is made by a heavier pressure;

and then, when the olives are worked over again, come the dregs, which

are not fit for table-use."

"Do they mash 'em, like making apples into cider?" asked Malcolm.

"Something like that; and the olive-farmers take the most anxious care

of their orchards, for they know that the more olives the more oil.

This with the Italians means a living, and one of their proverbs says,

'If you wish to leave a competency to your grandchildren, plant an

olive.' The poorest of the fruit is eaten in their own families, 'to

save it,' and, as it does not taste so well, it will go much farther.

They do not eat olives, though, as we see them eaten--one or two as a

relish; but a respectable dishful is provided for each person, instead

of the bread and potatoes which they do not have."

"I'd rather have the bread and potatoes," said Clara, "and I'm glad that

I don't have to eat a whole plate of olives."

"If you had always been accustomed to having olives, as the Italians

are," replied Miss Harson, "you would think them very nice. I do not

suppose that their children ever think how much more inviting are the

olives that are kept for sale. Olives intended for exportation are

gathered while still green, usually in the month of October. They are

soaked for some hours in the strongest lye, to get rid of their

bitterness, and are afterward allowed to stand for a fortnight in

frequently-changed fresh water, in order to be perfectly purified of the

lye. It only then remains to preserve them in common 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."

"Not if you lived where all were agreed on this point, as they seem to

be in Palestine.--'Days pass on, and the autumn is at hand before the

governor of the district issues the wished-for proclamation; then the

watchmen are removed. Immediately the scene becomes a most animated one.

The grove is alive with an eager throng of men, women and children

shaking down the precious fruit. It is, however, scarcely possible to

bring every berry down, nor would it seem desirable, since after this

great harvest comes the gleaning-time, when the poor, who have no olive

trees, are permitted to come into the grove and shake down what

is left.'"

"Isn't there something about that in the Bible, Miss Harson?" asked

Clara.

"Yes; it is in the book of the prophet Isaiah, 'Yet gleaning grapes

shall be left in it, as the shaking of an olive tree, two or three

berries in the top of the uppermost bough, four or five in the outmost

fruitful branches thereof, saith the Lord God of Israel[8].' This is a

prophecy about God's people, but the Jews were told by God to leave

something, when they were harvesting, for the poor to glean. Does it not

seem wonderful that the mighty Ruler of the universe should condescend

to such small things? But nothing is small with him, and we see that his

loving care extends to the poorest and the meanest."

[8] Isa. xvii. 6.

"Miss Harson," asked Edith, with great earnestness, "has each of our

hairs got a number on it? I couldn't find any."

The young lady could scarcely keep from smiling, but she was obliged to

call Malcolm to order, and even Clara seemed amused at her little

sister's queer interpretation of the loving words, "The very hairs of

your head are all numbered."

Miss Harson took her youngest pupil on her knee and explained to her the

meaning of our Saviour's words in Luke xii. 7, where it is added, "Fear

not,", because the heavenly Father's loving care is always around us.

"It was a natural mistake," she continued, "for a very little girl to

make; but we must not try to find amusement in mistakes about God's

word. Many grown people are irreverent in this way without knowing it:

perhaps they were not properly taught when they were children. But _my_

children must not have this excuse, and I want them all to promise me

that they will never utter nor listen to words from the Bible in any

other but a reverent manner."

All promised, Malcolm with a flushed face and subdued tone; and Edith

felt that one of the great puzzles of her small existence had

been solved.

"Oil is the most important product of the olive tree," said Miss Harson,

"and it has well been called its richness and fatness. The great demand

for it in Europe and Asia prevents the best quality from being sent

abroad, and it is said that even the most wealthy foreigners seldom get

it pure. It is a most important article of food, taking the place held

by butter and lard with us. Innumerable lamps, too, are kept burning by

means of this oil, and so varied are its uses in the East that it was a

greater thing than we can understand for the prophet Habakkuk to say,

'Although the labor of the olive shall fail, ... yet will I rejoice in

the Lord, I will joy in the God of my salvation.' Job says, 'The rock

poured me out rivers of oil[9];' this means the oil of the olive, which

will thrive on the sides and tops of rocky hills where there is scarcely

any earth. It is a very long-lived tree, as well as an evergreen; the

Psalmist says, 'I am like a green olive tree in the house of God.'"

[9] Job xxiii. 6.

"What does a _wild_ olive tree mean, Miss Harson?" asked Clara.

"It means, dear, one that has grown without being cultivated, like our

wild cherry and plum trees. The wild olive is smaller than the other,

and inferior to it in every way. There are a great many olive trees in

Palestine, and a place where they must have been very plentiful is

called by a name which we often see in the Bible.--What is it, Malcolm?"

"Is it 'the Mount of Olives'?" said Malcolm.

"Yes, and it is sometimes called 'Olivet.' It is mentioned in the Old

Testament as well as in the New. In Second Samuel it is written: 'And

David went up by the ascent of Mount Olivet, and wept as he went up, and

had his head covered, and he went barefoot: and all the people that was

with him covered every man his head, and they went up, weeping as they

went up[10].'"

[10] 2 Sam. xv. 30.

"What was the matter?" asked Edith.

"King David's wicked son Absalom had risen up against his father because

he wished to be king in his stead. You remember how he was caught by the

head in the boughs of an oak during the very battle that he was fighting

for this purpose; so we know that he did not succeed in his wicked plan,

but lost his life instead.--The Mount of Olives is described as 'a

ridge running north and south on the east side of Jerusalem, its summit

about half a mile from the city wall and separated from it by the valley

of the Kidron. It is composed of a chalky limestone, the rocks

everywhere showing themselves. The olive trees that formerly covered it

and gave it its name are now represented by a few trees and clumps of

trees. There are three prominent summits on the ridge; of these, the

southernmost, which is lower than the other two, is now known as 'the

Mount of Offence,' originally 'the Mount of Corruption,' because Solomon

defiled it with idolatrous worship. Over this ridge passes the road to

Bethany, the most frequented route to Jericho and the Jordan. The side

of the Mount of Olives toward the west contains many tombs cut in the

rock. The central summit rises two hundred feet above Jerusalem and

presents a fine view of the city, and, indeed, of the whole region,

including the mountains of Ephraim on the north, the valley of the

Jordan on the east, a part of the Dead Sea on the south-east, and beyond

it Kerak, in the mountains of Moab. Perhaps no spot on earth unites so

fine a view with so many memorials of the most solemn and important

events. Over this hill the Saviour often climbed in his journeys to and

from the Holy City. Gethsemane lay at its foot on the west, and Bethany

on its eastern slope.'"

During the reading of this description of the Mount of Olives, Miss

Harson showed the children pictures of the different spots mentioned,

and thus they were not likely soon to forget what had been told them.

"Who can repeat some words from the New Testament about this mountain?"

asked Miss Harson.

"'Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives,'" said Clara, who had learned

this verse in her Sunday lesson, "and it is the first verse of the

eighth chapter of St. John."

"And the verse just before it, at the end of the seventh chapter,"

replied her governess, "says that 'every man went unto his own house,'

but 'Jesus went unto the Mount of Olives.' In another place it is said

that 'at night he went out and abode in the Mount of Olives,' and in

still another that he 'continued all night in prayer to God,' probably

on the same mountain."

"And can people really go and see the very same Mount of Olives now?"

asked Malcolm, eagerly.

"The very same," was the reply, "except, as I just read to you, many of

the olive trees that gave it its name are no longer there. The Garden of

Gethsemane, too, the most sacred spot near the mountain, is much

changed, and a traveler who saw it lately says:

"'At the foot of the Mount of Olives is a garden enclosed by a wall.

There are paths and there are plots of flowers, the work of loving hands

in recent years. The flowers speak of to-day, but there are olive trees

in the garden that testify of the history of far-away years. Their

venerable trunks, gnarled and rugged, are like the rough, marred binding

of old books, shutting in a history going back to a far-off date.

"'On one side of this garden slope upward the terraces of the Mount of

Olives--terraces that are cultivated to-day even as the slopes of Olivet

have been cultivated for generations and centuries. The other side of

the garden looks toward the eastern wall of Jerusalem. Deep down in its

shadowy bed, between the wall and the garden, lies the ravine of

the Kedron.

[Illustration: GARDEN OF GETHSEMANE.]

"'If you visit that garden and look upon its old olive trees, the

keeper of the place will tell you that you are in Gethsemane, the spot

of our Saviour's betrayal. He will point out the "Grotto of the Agony,"

the place where the disciples slumbered, and that where Judas, before

his brethren, ceased publicly to be a follower and became the betrayer

of Jesus. Some things you very naturally may question as the guardian of

the enclosure tells his story. Whether any one of the venerable olive

trees ever threw its shadow across the prostrate form of Jesus is more

than doubtful, but that these trees are burdened with the history of

centuries all must concede. "Gethsemane" means "oil-press," and olive

trees long ago gave Olivet its name. That somewhere in this neighborhood

the Saviour suffered cannot be doubted, and within that closed wall may

have been the very spot where he bowed in his agony, and where he heard

the tongue of Judas utter his treacherous "Rabbi!" and where he felt the

serpent-breath of the traitor as that traitor kissed him.'"

Miss Harson read of this solemn spot in a low, reverent tone; and the

little audience were very quiet, until at last Clara said,

"Whenever we see an ash tree or olives, how much there will be to think

of!"

Among the Trees at Elmridge · 第 6 / 22 章