ARRANGEMENT. HI 



years later, In my own childhood, there were In the garden, 

 before me as I write, and now little more than one sub- 

 divided flower-bed those bowers and meandering walks — 

 many a pleasant nook, where the aged might rest, young 

 men and maidens sigh their love, and happy children play. 

 Ah, what delicious facilities for '' I spy" and for " hide-and- 

 seek," where now there Is but scant concealment for the 

 furtive hungry cat ! What lookings into eyes, what ap- 

 proximations of lips, where now it would be " bragian " 

 boldness to squeeze a body's hand ! I look through the 

 window, and I see the place where, under drooping 

 branches, we were kings and queens ; where we entertained 

 ambassadors with surreptitious food ; where I was crowned 

 with laurel (the only bit of reality) as the great poet of my 

 day ; and where, for brilliant service, I was knighted scores 

 of times, on my return from India, with the handle of our 

 garden-rake ! I see the place — it was hidden behind the 

 yew-trees then — where we were so often shipwrecked upon 

 " Desert Island," and where my youngest sister would 

 never be induced to have her face adequately grimed for 

 the performance of man Friday ! I look — but I can see no 

 more ! "A flood of thoughts comes o'er me, and fills mine 

 eyes with tears." The playmates of my youth — where are 



