The outer covering is of branches of fir, cedar, and pine, closely appressed, with the tips directed downward to keep out the rain and the native rats, mice, and squirrels. The interior lining is mainly of the long, slender branches of Hosakia or Lotus. While on the subject of Indian foods, it may be mentioned that the nutritious For these tables I am indebted to the U. S. Food Administration. The analysis of acorn flour was kindly made by Dr. J. A. Le Clerc, of the Bureau of Chemistry, U. S. Dept. of Agriculture. This acorn flour was made from the California black oak (Quercus californica) and is very old, having been obtained by me from the Mewuk Indians at Oleta, in the middle Sierra foothills, 12 years ago. As a result it is exceedingly dry and without doubt has lost much of its protein. An interesting comparison may be made with an analysis, by Charles D. Woods, of acorn flour from the California Valley white oak (Quercus lobata), which yielded: Water, 8.7; ash, 2.0; fat, 18.6; protein, 5.7; carbohydrates, 65.0. This meal (unleached) contained 6.63 per cent of tannin. The large percentage of fat in both kinds shows their extraordinary richness in nut oil and consequent high fuel value. nuts of the sugar pine and digger pine and the berries of certain species of manzanita are much used by California Indians; that the seeds, roots, and fruits of numerous other plants form valued additions to the diet, and that in times of scarcity the nuts of the California laurel and buckeye, of which hundreds of bushels may be had, are so treated as to be edible. In the arid mountains of the desert region east of the Sierra the rich oily nut of the pinyon or nut pine takes the place of the acorn as the dominant element of the food supply; and in certain canyons bordering the Colorado desert the same may be said of the native date, while in the open deserts the mesquite bean is the staple commodity. THE MORNING CALL OF THE MILKMAID IN SAN MARINO Early each day, peasant girls climb Monte Titano from the sloping farms below, carrying woven baskets of straw in which are packed bottles of milk. When the price of milk reached 50 centimes (10 cents) a quart recently there was a national scandal. Rthe OUR LITTLEST ALLY BY ALICE ROHE ISING sheer and majestic from the plains of Romagna, an imposmountain dominates the landscape from Rimini to the distant rolling hills and peaks of the Apennines. Atop this great rock, whose serrated flanks and menacing heights seem inaccessible, three towers soar in picturesque silhouette against the sky-line. The nearer approach over ever-upward roads, ascending from the Adriatic toward this giant mount, brings increasing doubt as to its accessibility. It is Mount Titanus, and the towers piercing the blue sky are the famous "Penne" of San Marino, the littlest Republic in the world, the land of perpetual liberty, of hereditary peace. An eminence well worth the struggle to reach in these war-tortured times! Austrian dirigibles soar above Rimini, its nearest railway connection, 13 miles away, dropping their destructive bombs; but the Land of Peace stands calm and unafraid, wrapped in the undisturbed autonomy of sixteen centuries. The entire landscape to south and west is marked by mounts and peaks capped with medieval towers, bringing to mind those illustrated fairy tales of childhood, with their deeds of wickedness and chivalry. Legends and fairy tales indeed are interwoven in this marvelous panorama; but history, too-history of violent and bloody warfare rises phantom - like about those warning heights. They are the towers of the Malatesta, and from Rimini, past Verruchio, where these tyrants first established their lordship, to right and left of the river Marecchia, their story is written before San Marino. THE MOUNTAIN OF THE TITANS But long before the Malatesta began their cruel sway, Mount Titanus had its place in the dawn of story, for it is no other than that famed mountain of mythology which the angry Titans raised in their efforts to reach Jove and drive. him from his throne. Having left Rimini, with its stern reminders of war in air and sea, its sandbagged cathedral, temple of Sigismondo Malatesta, miles behind, the country of peace becomes an inspiring goal. The frontier is crossed with scant formality. Serravalle, largest of the castelli, or towns, of the Republic, first stop on San Marino soil, is passed, and the Borgo, nestling at the foot of the forebodinglooking mountain, shows quaintly narrow streets and arched loggias, as the courageous auto plunges determinedly up that precipitous drive. At last it stops before an ancient gateway, where all passengers must descend. Then through its massive arch, up a steep, narrow street, the way leads with many turns, past little squares and market-place, to the cherished spot of the Sammarinesi, the Pianello, Piazza della Liberta, with its statue of Liberty in the center. Here is the government palace, modern edifice of fourteenth century architecture. architecture. Here are the postal and telegraph offices and the Tribunal. Doves, fitting symbols, flutter about the palace, descending to get their daily food from the natives; then flying away to rest beneath the statue of San Marino, standing guard over his Republic, from the palace angle. Before the wall, which seems to protect the promenaders from falling into the depths below, a view of unusual loveliness is unfolded. A PANORAMA OF UNSURPASSED SPLENDOR But it is from the "Rocca," the ancient fortress, still higher, ever higher, that a panorama of unsurpassed splendor is revealed-mountains and peaks, sea and plain, white ribbon-like roads winding through level and height toward distan parts. Ranges of mountains roll wavelike away into the horizon. Carpegna, cradle of the counts of Montefeltro, later dukes of Urbino, looms majestically. To the left a black streak against the horizon marks Ravenna's famed Pineta, or Pine Forest. Again one sees Rimini and EMPTYING WINE CASKS AT THE GATE OF SERRAVALE: SAN MARINO As these splendid animals attest, stock-raising is the principal occupation of the Sammarinesi, but the cultivation of vineyards is a close second. Even the poorest peasant crushes his grapes and makes his wine. the sea, and through the clear air the gaze crosses the Adriatic and discerns the faint outline of Dalmatia, the land from which came that pious stone-cutter, founder of the Republic, the land of liberty and peace-Marino. But nearer at hand, so close that it seems as if one could almost call across, though it is six miles distant, the most compelling of all San Marino's mountainous neighbors holds the attention. It rises abruptly from the rolling hills, another seemingly inaccessible and impregnable rock, with a formidable fortress menacing the landscape from its precipitous height. This is San Leo, whose history, interwoven in primitive times with that of San Marino, is of especial interest, in the light of the littlest Republic's diverging line of development. War and tyranny ever disturbed the inhabitants of San Leo, while peace and liberty blessed San Marino. Tradition says the reason was that the body of San Leo was removed from the country, while that of San Marino remained a powerful and venerated relic. San Leo's grim fortress has been the scene of dark deeds during the successive political wars and the varied turbulent epochs of Italian history. Among its famous and infamous prisoners was Cagliostro, who died after six years of suffering, in solitary confine ment. ITALY HONORS THE LITTLE REPUBLIC IN It is on the highest point of the Republic, 2,500 feet above sea-level, looking from San Leo out over the scenes of violent history, that the story of San Marino becomes picturesquely vital. Battles and discords have rolled for centuries about its feet, war has engulfed it, even as today, and even as today it has maintained its independence, its liberty, its heritage of peace. The position of San Marino, 13 miles from Rimini, is singular. This little Re When Leo and Marino, Dalmatian stone-cutters, had completed their self-appointed task of caring for the spiritual and physical well-being of the Christian slaves who were reconstructing the walls of the city of Rimini, they sought peace and solitude on two neighboring heights now called San Leo and San Marino. public, whose greatest length is 9 miles, is completely surrounded by Italy, who respects its autonomy, as have rulers of the past, with a few fleeting exceptions, since the pious Dalmatian stone-cutter left the mountain to his followers, "free from every other man." Today is the time when the rights of little nations are commanding a good deal of the world's attention. Their claims before humanity have been forced by tyranny and the horrors of war. San Marino, littlest nation of them all, is of interest because of its very freedom, its persistent maintenance of its hereditary liberty. The tradition of its safety, its internal peace, in contrast to San Leo, is ingenuously expressed in the ancient belief that whenever an evil and avaricious spirit, covetous of dominion, entered a citizen, that citizen, through some occult power, was disposed of. Disturbers of the pub lic peace did not last long. Saint Marino, you see, watched over his Republic. Whatever be the reason for the perpetual peace, the veneration of the saint is boundless. Today, with the same sincerity and reverence as of old, the silver bust containing the head of Marino is carried throughout the Republic to bless it. A REPUBLIC WHOSE IDEAL HAS BEEN That this little Republic, which today has 11,000 inhabitants and an area of 38 square miles, has maintained its independence, its ideal of liberty, in the midst of strife and bloodshed, of changing social conditions, for sixteen centuries, adds dignity to the unwavering belief of the trusting ones in the never-ceasing protection of the saintly founder. The position of the mountain, far from the great Roman roads, the Via Flaminia and Via Emilia; sufficiently distant from |