A VISIT TO THE PRINCE 26 



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day's work, would be done ere long. Some day he 

 would go home. 



Perhaps of anyone I have ever met brain-clouded 

 Mazan was the most imaginative. How we loved his 

 beautiful thoughts. He told us of the Light who came 

 in the morning to play on the leaves, of the Breath who 

 marshalled the clouds into armies, of the Voice who 

 spoke when the skies opened. He had a quaint fancy, 

 too, about the bracken fern. Once in all the year, he 

 said, the stalk breaks into a foamy blossom of sweet- 

 scented flowers. The marvel only lasts a passing 

 second, but if you are there at just the right moment 

 on just the right day and quickly gather a spray, you 

 will from that hour possess an all-comprehending and 

 infinite knowledge. There would be nothing on earth 

 left for you to fathom. Only, Mazan added, rather 

 sadly, no man has yet been fortunate enough to prove 

 for himself the truth of the tradition. 

 I wonder ! 



For, somehow or other, Winston Churchill has con- 

 trived this thing. 



The beautiful weather broke, and for two days sleet 

 and hail drove through the valley and thunderous rain 

 fell in waterspouts. 



To while away this season of our discontent the 

 Prince tried to interest us in Russian politics. Our 

 own are stupid enough, but the Muscovite variety 

 seems more unenhghtened still. Our host, how- 

 ever, did not allow the wiles and ways of politicians 

 to trouble him much, for he had a most amusingly 

 comprehensive method of dismissing from his thoughts 



