OUR SENTIMENTAL GARDEN 



maiden ladies, whom we have christened Tweedle- Ann and 



*;.-, 



Tweedle-Liza. They are so extra- 

 ordinarily like each other that even 

 they themselves <we have heard) 

 hardly know which is which. They 

 have the same rotundity of figure, 

 the same uncertain obliquity in one 

 eye, the same cheerful rosy visage, 

 the same sleek bands of grey hair. 

 When the Master of the House was a 

 young man, an Irish servant was heard 

 to observe to him, gazing rapturously 

 at him as he walked away from her 

 vision, all unconsciously, in his shoot- 

 ing-garb: "And indeed he's a lovely 

 gentleman. Them jars of legs ! " <As 

 a matter of fact, Loki's Grandfather 

 has very nice legs.) But Tweedle-Ann 

 and Tweedle-Liza, in short, sensible 

 grey tweed skirts, bending their portly 

 forms over their wall garden, have more 

 than often presented to the passer-by a 

 vision . . . 



The Japanese say that reticence is the 

 very soul of art. Our aspirations are 

 always towards the artistic, but there is 

 something touching in four . . . exactly 

 similar . . . side by side . . . ! 

 To digress once more: Loki's Grand- 

 father is no doubt a man of fine proportions / though he is 

 not at all plump, he has all the athlete's dread of becoming 

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