The Seen and the Unseen 



that lounge and easy chair so precious. 

 It is not what that cherry tree is today 

 that appeals to me so much as the 

 thought of what a little thing it was 

 in the spring of 1902. It is not the 

 automobile there in the garage that 

 I think about so much when the sun 

 goes down these days as of little 

 "Pride" a Shetland Pony that once 

 munched his hay and oats in a stall 

 that has long since disappeared. The 

 whole place is haunted. There are 

 spirits in every nook and corner of the 

 cottage, and good fairies live in every 

 hedge and oak and clump of shrubbery. 

 You cannot see them, to be sure, but 

 that is no proof that they are not there. 

 For me, at least, they have and shall 

 have to the end of time a real existence. 

 They are all around me now, but if I 

 undertook to point them out, or even 

 name them, probably they would fade 

 away as quickly as the "insubstantial 

 fabric" of any other dream. But I am 

 sure they would come back to bless 



[15] 



