The Happy Garden 



such as there were left when human beings had 

 given up doing the wrong thing at the wrong time. 



I may or may not be worthy of my own Leisure, 

 but if I am not, it is very certain that in due time 

 I shall lose it, and all that I have done with it, 

 including the river. If it is to be so, so be it. In 

 the meanwhile, let me take pride in it and discover 

 it from its source down. 



There are two different waters on the estate — 

 three, counting rain-water. There is a spring from 

 which the best supply is drawn by a pump in the 

 kitchen. The rest comes chalky from the main 

 of the nearest company half a mile through the 

 woods. That is " laid on " both in house and 

 garden. The river runs from the top by the old 

 gate. Its source is overhung with honeysuckle and 

 set about with roses and lavender. . . . As a 

 matter of hard fact, it rises through an iron pipe 

 set in a gravel path. 



It runs intermittently : that is to say, when 

 the water begins to stale, the hose is turned on 

 and a fresh stream flows to the delight of the gold- 

 fish and the water plants and the profit of the 

 company. (These romance-destroying details are 

 not for Jane and Elisabeth.) 



The river has a history. 



Time was when in the unregenerate past, the 

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