A GARDEN DIARY 71 



towering twigs. It was a kindly thought of 

 whichever divinity sent that most unexpected 

 and satisfactory beam to cheer this particular 

 day. It did not last long of course, and the 

 gloom of a winter's night has followed quickly. 

 For all that Christmas 1899 will never seem 

 quite so dark, never so absolutely despairing in 

 the retrospect, as it would have done without 

 that last benevolent gleam at eventide. 



