The Happy Garden 



the censorship committee of the study. Peter-cat 

 is lying on his purple quilt. Jane coos at him, but 

 he ignores her. 



So — to my room. Honeysuckle and roses nod 

 at the window at one end, clematis and jasmine 

 hang a curtain at the other. Always the windows 

 are wide open, and the night sounds come drowsily 

 up : the squawking of the herons, the rattle of the 

 nightjar, the fluting of the toads, the barking of 

 the gamekeeper's dog down the road, sometimes 

 the nightingale, always the wind in the trees. . . . 



The little white shelf that runs along the. 

 wall by the side of the bed is a speciality of 

 mine ; it is so useful for so many things — all 

 the things one loves in the way of books 

 .and knick-knacks, and a portrait or two. And my 

 pet pictures hang above it, some Botticellis in 

 pretty Italian frames ; best of all, the Carpaccio 

 boy from Venice ; the perfect angel playing a lute. 

 Here I sleep, or, when I do not sleep, I lie and 

 dream colour and form and new schemes for house 

 and garden, or think the funny half-thoughts that 

 are all that will come to a person's bed. Some- 

 times the bed is like a boat, and with sails all out 

 away we go dreaming, dreaming, and laughing, as 

 we dart out on the golden sea, which is the end of 

 all things. . . . Sometimes there are dreadful 



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