16 TROPIC DAYS 



which, though incessantly repeated, are blessed with 

 recurrent freshness. 



The sun rises, travels across a cloudless sky, gleams 

 on a sailless sea, disappears behind purple mountains 

 gilding their outline, and the day is done. Not a single 

 dust-speck has soiled sky or earth; not the faintest 

 echo of noisy labours disturbed the silences; not an 

 alien sight has intruded. What can there be in such 

 a scene to exhilarate ? Must not the inhabitants 

 vegetate dully after the style of their own bananas ? 

 Actually the day has been all too brief for the accom- 

 plishment~of inevitable duties and to the complete 

 enjoyment of all too alluring relaxations. 



Here is opportunity to patronise the sun, to revel 

 in the companionship of the sea, to confirm the usage 

 of beaches, to admonish winds to seemliness and secrecy, 

 to approve good-tempered trees, to exchange con- 

 fidences with flowering plants, to claim the perfumed 

 air, to rejoice in the silence 



" Not learning more than the fond eye doth teach, 

 Which pris not to th' interior." 



How oft is the confession that the fullest moments 

 of life are achieved when I roam the beaches with little 

 more in the way of raiment than sunburn and naught 

 in hand save the leaves of some strange, sand-loving 

 plant? Then is it that the individual is magnified. 

 The sun salutes. The wind fans. The sea sighs a 

 love melody. The caressing sand takes print of my 

 foot alone. All the world might be mine, for none is 

 present to dispute possession. The sailless sea smiles 

 in ripples, and strews its verge with treasures for my 

 acceptance. The sky's purity enriches my soul. Shall 

 I not joy therein ? 



Though he may be unable to attain those moments 



