YI 

 GUINEVERE THE MYSTERIOUS 



AGAIN the CJuiana jungle comes wonderfully 

 to the eye and mysteriously to the mind; again 

 my khakis and sneakers are skin-comfortable; 

 again I am squatted on a pleasant mat of leaves 

 in a miniature gorge, miles back of my Kartabo 

 bungalow. Life elsewhere has already become 

 unthinkable. I recall a place boiling with wor- 

 ried people, rent with unpleasing sounds, and 

 beset with unsatisfactory pleasures. In less than 

 a year I shall long for a sight of these worried 

 people, my ears will strain to catch the unpleas- 

 ing sounds, and I shall plunge with joy into the 

 unsatisfactory pleasures. To-day, however, all 

 these have passed from mind, and I settle down 

 another notch, head snuggled on knees, and sway, 

 elephant-fashion, with sheer joy, as a musky, ex- 

 citing odor comes drifting, apparently by its 

 own volition, down through the windless little 

 gorge. 



If I permit a concrete, scientific reaction, I 



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