DAYS IN MY GARDEN 



S, 



OME WHERE I have read of a traveller who, when 

 ascending one of the more lonely and lofty parts of the 

 Rocky Mountains, encountered an aged priest toiling 

 upwards. 



Astonished to find one so old in such wild sur- 

 roundings, and curious to know why he should be 

 found exposing himself alone to such risk and ex- 

 ertion, he sought an explanation. 



The old priest then related how he had recently 

 recovered from a long and very serious illness, during 

 which he had experienced a strange and vivid dream. 

 Believing himself to be dead, he had left the world 

 and passed to the very gates of heaven, and there was 

 met by one who to his great surprise addressed him in 

 these words : ' That is a very beautiful w^orld which you 

 have just left.' For the first time in his long life he 

 realised that he had never appreciated its beauty, so 



B. 1 



