A GARDEN DIARY 217 



AUGUST 4, 1900 



the vicissitudes of this year there seem to 

 be no end ! After we have mourned over 

 these victims of Pekin as men mourn over those 

 for whom there is absolutely no hope ; after we 

 have enumerated their names, like the names 

 upon a death-roll, and all but held a national 

 funeral service in their memory ; and after we 

 have followed their last moments ; gloried in its 

 heroism ; wept over its tragedy ; starved, sighed, 

 bled, almost died with them ; lo, it appeareth now 

 that none of them are dead at all ! Was ever 

 an entire continent in the history of the world so 

 mercilessly defrauded before of its tears ? 



I have no notion how they may feel about it 

 themselves, but my impression is that were I the 

 responsible head of a daily newspaper I should 

 prefer to immure myself from society for the 

 next few days ! There is a pile of such papers 

 at this moment in my sanctum, which I have just 

 been turning over, and reading a few of the head- 

 lines with some little inward entertainment. Not 



