There was a peculiar little rattle about the voice, which I recognized at once as belonging to Cinnamon.
"For several years I was rocked to and fro by gentle tropic breezes or lashed about by storms. From my perch I could see beautiful flowers, bright insects, and even serpents in the thicket at my feet. Birds of brilliant plumage often perched upon me. My home was on the island of Ceylon.
"It is often said that where there is much bark there is no bite. In my own case that is not so."
"I do not understand," said Ginger.
"Why," said Cinnamon, laughing, "I am all bark, and I have considerable bite, as those who have tasted me know.
"I was taken from one of the smaller limbs of a cinnamon tree. I was slipped within a larger piece of bark, for we each rolled up when stripped from the limbs. A still larger piece was slipped over us and so on until quite a bundle had been formed. Some were quite short, and some were three feet in length."
STORIES OF CALIFORNIA
BY