ing as if you were actually jealous. Let s change 

 the subject before we quarrel. This is a regener 

 ating morning. Look at those flaming maples. 

 Did you ever see such dyes ? Great Scott ! what a 

 depth of feeling there is in yellow, if it be only 

 spattered with a little scarlet. Do you know, I 

 think yellow is the major note, after all. It repre 

 sents in the visual world what sodium does in the 

 universe. Everything tries to imitate gold when 

 it can. There s no passion in it. The magnifi 

 cent calm of the Chinese has some affiliation with 

 chrome yellow. The Mongolian probably wears 

 the original livery of Eden.&quot; 



We walked on. &quot;Doctor,&quot; I said, &quot;suppos 

 ing such a thing possible, do you see anything 

 very preposterous in a large, cool, mature admira 

 tion for a girl like Griselle ? &quot; 



&quot; Large, cool, mature admirations are not pos 

 sible outside of the domain of external nature. 

 Observe that delicious field of burnt umber just 

 turned up ; I suppose it is got ready for fall 

 planting rye perhaps. How silver gray every 

 stone in it looks in this light, and how vivid the 

 stems of those white birches by the brook, against 

 it all. Do you know, my boy, there is something 

 restful and recuperative in good virgin dirt ? I ve 

 got half a dozen hysterical patients who could 

 draw some kind of earthy virtue from the brown 

 field if I could only take their tight shoes off and 

 make them run barefoot in those furrows. Did 

 it ever occur to you that civilization, in abolishing 

 dirt, is very apt to substitute filth ? A ploughed 



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