Leaves from a Madeira Garden 



us ; but with a shade temperature of over 60° 

 it cannot be called cold. The country round 

 seems remotely to suggest Devonshire in spring. 

 The oak-trees, indeed, retain their summer 

 foliage, and will not lose it till the new leaves 

 in February push the old ones off. But at 

 their base are the wild flowers of spring, and 

 the scent of spring is in the air. The clumps 

 of pampas grass and huge yuccas at the entrance 

 of a neighbouring Qidnta recall an English 

 garden, and the only suggestion at hand of a 

 more southern land is the luxuriance of the 

 glaucous aloes which grow in masses on the 

 rocks. Here with jest and laughter we beguile 

 the midday hours — 



" Light flows our war of mocking words ; " — 



and, when the sun declines, watch, as we have 

 often watched in wonder and delight before, 

 the ravines of the opposite hills grow dark and 

 mysterious in their evening haze, a foil for the 

 heightened glow on peak and ridge. 



38 



' 



