IN THE FOREST OF ARDEN. 147 



VIL 



.... Pray you, if you know, 

 Where in the purlieus of this forest stands 

 A sheep-cote fenc d about with olive trees ? 



***** 

 The rank of osiers by the murmuring stream 

 Left on your right hand, brings you to the place. 

 But at this hour the house doth keep itself. 



YEARS ago, when we were planning to build a 

 certain modest little house, Rosalind and I found 

 endless delight in the pleasures of anticipation. 

 By day and by night our talk came back to the 

 home we were to make for ourselves. We dis 

 cussed plan after plan and found none quite to our 

 mind ; we examined critically the houses we 

 visited ; we pored over books ; we laid the ex 

 perience of our friends under contribution ; and 

 when at last we had agreed upon certain essentials 

 we called an architect to our aid, and fondly im 

 agined that now the prelude of discussion and 

 delay was over, we should find unalloyed delight in 

 seeing our imaginary home swiftly take form and 

 become a thing of reality. Alas for our hopes ! 

 Expense followed fast upon expense and delay 

 upon delay. There were endless troubles with 

 masons and carpenters and plumbers ; and when 

 our dream was at last realized, the charm of it had 

 somehow vanished ; so much anxiety, care, and 

 vexation had gone into the process of building that 



