The City Park 



lies midway between two crowded 

 eastern suburbs, within a few minutes' 

 run of the city's heart. On either 

 boundary electric trams rush past 

 with clanging haste. Motor-cars 

 race along the asphalt paths, motor- 

 bicycles snort from gate to gate ; 

 civilisation, with its feverish unrest, 

 surrounds and invades it, and yet, 

 in spite of all, it holds a peace and 

 special sanctuary, undreamed of by 

 the noisy, bustling crowd, that casts 

 a careless eye on its beauty, or hastens 

 through unheeding. 



Just a step from the made path will lead you to the long, 

 deep grass, which skirts the pond. The water is somewhat 

 low, and each lake boasts a few feet of soft, clean, white sand, 

 which gives it the appearance of an inland sea in miniature. 

 A fresh breeze which ruffles the surface into wavelets adds 

 to the likeness, and a flock of gulls driven inland by the rough 

 weather, ride on the waves, or whirl screeching overhead. 



