236 A WHITE-PAPER GARDEN 



Earle, Mrs Alice Morse Earle, Miss Jeykll, 

 Mrs Clarke, Miss Blachjen, Mrs Thaxter, Mrs 

 Wright and the charming Elizabeth, which 

 seem, indeed, to make it idle for another 

 woman to write down the garden thoughts that 

 grow in the shadowy White-paper Country 

 where her possessions lie. More precious 

 still are the old herbals and travellers' journals 

 and early handbooks, and best of all are the 

 worn old poetry books, with dried violets 

 between their leaves, and pencil marks and 

 dates along their margins, from which we have 

 learned the singing words that lighten our 

 garden days. I could not have the best of 

 October if I could not repeat Keats' "Ode to 

 Autumn " as I walk through the golden after- 

 noons, and over and over I repeat these 

 perfect lines of Emily Dickinson : 



" These are the days when birds come back, 

 A very few : a bird or two 

 To take a backward look. 



" These are the days when skies put on 

 The old, old sophistries of June 

 A blue-and-gold mistake. 



" O fraud that cannot cheat the bee ! 

 Almost thy plausibility 

 Induces my belief. 



