OUR FAVORITE JAUNTS 



"Come and see," said the smiling guardian, and 

 pushing off in the tiny flat-bottomed boat we silently 

 punted into the midst of the parting leaves. 



"They are birds!" I exclaimed, for when we came 

 too close the swallows sluggishly rose only to seek the 

 nearest perch again. "Birds! There must be hun 

 dreds of them." 



"Yes, they love to drink from the lotus pods," an 

 swered the guardian. "It must make them feel queer 

 for a while, but it does n't hurt 'em any." 



When the petals of the lotus drop away the cup- 

 like seed-pod stands exposed, offering its contents to 

 the blue-winged swallows who, sweeping in great cir 

 cles over these Elysian fields, with reckless self-in 

 dulgence drink the sleep-producing liquid and on the 

 upright perches rest, dreaming rapturously. 



These wild water plants are difficult to cultivate; 

 the guardian told us that for fifteen years he had ex 

 perimented and had only just succeeded in making some 

 of the lotus plants live in another section of the lake. 

 What a beautiful addition they would be to any water 



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