New Walks in Old Ways 



ments. Iron gates, not difficult to 

 manage, are all that bar your en- 

 trance. The only sentinels that guard 

 the Sleeping Beauty are the oaks and 

 lilacs, and, once we find ourselves in- 

 side, the Sweet Spirit of the Place 

 awakes, and straightway a burden 

 falls. You will not hear it drop, for 

 grass is velvet. 



The evening paper comes, but sud- 

 denly I have lost my interest in the 

 market page. I should much rather 

 study the coloring of that royal purple 

 Clematis. The mail arrives, consisting 

 mainly of brokers' advertisements of 

 new bond issues by corporations in dis- 

 tress, and unpaid bills; but can't you 

 see the beauty of the lightning playing 

 yonder in that "thunder head?" Now 

 the blessed rain is streaming from the 

 cloud as it approaches fast flying from 

 the west! I know of a promissory note, 

 too, that has to be taken care of some- 

 how during the next three weeks, but, 

 dearly beloved, just scent the infinitely 

 [8] 



