make room for houses. She was our next door neigh- 

 bor and boylike, I could be found at her house when I 

 should have been at home. She grew flowers all round 

 the house. They crept up the porch and sent their per- 

 fume thru the door with you as you entered. They 

 peeped in the windows and climbed the fence to meet 

 and welcome you, johnny-jump-ups, four-o'clocks, 

 dahlias, fox-gloves, harebells, phlox, larkspurs, scores of 

 others and nasturtiums. The nasturtiums she grew were 

 tinted with all the hues of a glorious sunset, and thru 

 the long years that stretch between that far-away time 

 and now, I can see the silvery leaves and catch the odor 

 of the blossoms. 



I asked no one where the Roy croft Shops were, and when 

 I came upon them did not see them for a long time. A 

 low, well-built stone wall runs around Roycroftie, and 

 along that wall, over it, caressing it, shielding and com- 

 muning with it were the brilliant-hued, never-forgotten 

 companions of the days when cut-down breeches, rav- 

 elled stitches and misplaced switches (as I then regarded 

 them) were new to me. Extending a welcome in red and 

 yellow, green and gold, the nasturtiums pointed the way 

 to the "Chapel " where I saw other pilgrims standing, 

 chatting and listening. 



When a church or chapel comes to view one instinctively 

 sobers down into a feeling of reverential calm. I do any- 

 way, and the Roycroft Chapel, beautiful in its homelike 

 exterior and grand in its simplicity, acknowledged the 

 introduction of the nasturtiums as I entered. Erected by 

 willing, well-trained hands and dedicated to the service 

 of God thru helping Man, the Chapel is not unlike 

 others I have seen. It is, however, open to all. Turk, 

 Jew and Atheist may touch elbows with the Catholic, 

 Presbyterian and Methodist without feeling that any of 

 the powder of piety has been rubbed off. God does His 

 best work thru the best of all His instruments, and 



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