be, still, those large areas must not be overlooked, which, lying within the borders of historic Palestine, are of inestimable importance for the industrial evolution of the land. They have the advantages of an extremely scant population, cheapness of land and absence of competition. Ten years ago, the I. C. A. was able, by a bold stroke, to gain a foothold in Lower Galilee. On the other side of Jordan, in the Hauran district, Baron Rothschild has acquired considerable tracts. Similar tracts are purchaseable on the other side of the Jordan, in Gileath Golan, the Hauran, etc., for whose protect-
Halyka
—Translated from the German by LOTTA LEVENSOHN.
We had been picking red, juicy strawberries for more than an hour, my big sister and I, she with a multi-colored basket made of straw-wood, and I with a small blue pot which we commonly used as a drinking cup and sometimes as a measure for it held exactly a quart. My sister was quite tired and satisfied: her basket was nearly full. "Come," she said. "Let's rest on that stone a while and eat our lunch; then we can go home."
But it is difficult to manage a lad of ten. Besides, it was a perfect day, and I had a mind to run about somewhat more. The sun was pouring down the dazzling light from a perfectly blue sky. A spirit of joy seemed to be hovering over everything. From the smaller rounded shrubs and the larger trees blossom-laden and majestic in the white day, from the very tips of the light-green leaves, delight seemed to drip and melt into the atmosphere laden with the fragrance of nodding, bright colored flowers sprouting everywhere without regard for any particular spot or form.
"But Esther," cried I who was not in the least tired, "your basket can hardly
hold any more, while my pot is not yet half-full!"
"Of course it isn't," said my sister, "Every time you put one berry into the pot, you put two into your mouth."
"But Esther," I protested. "What about my pot?"
"If you come with me," she said, "I'll fill it with some of my own strawberries. If you don't, I'll sit down myself, eat up the whole of our lunch and let Volyka catch you."
I was not at all concerned, I assure you, whether she ate everything herself or not. I would rather climb one of those tall, fresh pines than eat dry bread and cheese. But I did not like the idea of having Volyka catch me. Volyka was a wild man who prowled around our village and lived in this wood. And so her last argument convinced me. I followed her to the rectangular white stone situated on the outskirts of the wood. Here the trees were very few, with light-green grass and the distant brown hills ahead. The white stone had been there ever since people could remember. It was firmly rooted in the ground, and the grass grew from its