“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.”