ttbc fragrant "Mote JBool? 



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stored brain upon which to call, how often must he have ^ 

 framed thanksgivings for those hours spent in the hedgerows. /\' 



History, it is said, repeats herself, and we shall not have ^' \ \ 

 far to go before we find another royal court where time, as 

 Young sweetly puts it, was "elaborately thrown away," a 

 court where Parisian Louis and Viennese Marie held sway. 

 Can we not see the dainty little queen like a pink and blue x ( I 

 Tanagra figurine, ruling her helpless colony of shepherds 

 and shepherdesses, devising quaint games and ingenious 

 pastimes to while away the unvalued hours. Then of a 

 summer's night it developed that not one of the company, 

 not one useless little shepherd or milk-maid of them all had 

 ever seen the sun rise; and imagine their consternation when 

 the queen invited — nay, commanded — all to attend the 

 next morning's performance! Poor shepherds ! Poor queen! 

 Few enough suns they saw thereafter, and little good their 

 masques and fnvolities brought them. The memories of a 

 blind Milton were better worth. 



Let us follow this path which leads along the hedge- 

 rows and over the hillocks green where the harvest of wheat 

 grows in the fields and a harvest of flowers in the neglected 

 by-paths and comers. Here seems to stalk a bearded, X 

 venerable and benevolent Moses, laying down laws for his 

 people; laws for ceremonial religion; laws of hygiene; poHti- 

 cal rules, and rules economic. Here we shall see him in- 

 spired by a God ever thoughtful for the poor and resenting 

 waste which could be turned to their account; and by his 



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