CHAPTER II 

 THOUGHTS THAT COME 



OMETIMES I think the garden is 

 even more beautiful in its winter 

 garb than in its gala dress of sum- 

 mer. I know I have thought so 

 more than once when every leaf and branch was 

 clothed with a pure garment of snow, so light as 

 not to hide the grace of form. But nothing, it 

 seems to me, could ever transcend the exquisite 

 beauty of the vegetation when on one occasion a 

 sharp frost followed a very wet fog. The mist 

 driven by the wind had imparted a coating of 

 fresh moisture, evenly distributed, over and under 

 every leaf and twig inside the trees and shrubs 

 as well as outside. The light coating then froze 

 and left every innermost twig resplendent with 

 delicate white crystals. It was quite different 

 from an ordinary frost or a fall of snow, beau- 

 tiful as are frequently the effects of these. But 

 13 



