June and Early July 



hold on the imaginations of our poets. 

 Mr. James Whitcomb Riley asks, 



— " what is the lily and all of the rest 

 Of the flowers to a man with a heart in his 



breast 

 That was dipped brimmin' full of the honey and 



dew 

 Of the sweet clover blossoms his babyhood 



knew ? " 



It is generally acknowledged that our 

 sense of smell is so intimately connected 

 with our powers of memory that odors 

 serve to recall, with peculiar vividness, 

 the particular scenes with which they 

 are associated. Many of us have been 

 startled by some swiftly borne, perhaps 

 unrecognized, fragrance, which, for a 

 brief instant, has forcibly projected us 

 into the past; and I can imagine that 

 a sensitively organized individual — and 

 surely the poet is the outcome of a pe- 

 culiarly sensitive and highly developed 

 organization — might be carried back, 



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