XT! A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



saw, with the first grateful glance, what had 

 been prepared for me. 



With a breath of vapour, and on a pane of 

 glass, the frost fairies had painted scenes that 

 I held my heart to look at. Mountain ranges 

 were there, with cliffs along which pointed firs 

 marched in valiant phalanx. Valleys were 

 there, down whose slopes rivers, fringed with 

 willows and with reeds, flowed to vast oceans. 

 Spars of ships at sea were there ; islands 

 crowned with palms ; ruins of old temples ; 

 galaxies of stars and bars of light ineffable ; 

 fronds of ferns, and a thousand symbols for 

 thoughts for which we have no words. All 

 these were painted there, and blending the 

 unheard music of their frozen harmonies with 

 the far-off chimes of bells calling the faithful 

 to prayer, I heard the voices of the winter- 

 spirits whispering. 



" We are of the most ancient guild of master 

 craftsmen. Since Time has been we have 

 spoken to men as we speak to you. Thou- 



