REMINISCENT TALES 



and nymphs have disappeared, but complete 

 and perfect their handiwork remains. As a 

 parting gift they bequeathed to mortals this 

 mystic masterpiece. The hour that now is 

 striking beholds their treasure gems as ra- 

 diant as had been their wont in days of yore. 



The fays themselves and their magic castle 

 ne'er were seen by human eye, but one who 

 came and understood erected a humble shel- 

 ter. With him peace lingers, an honored 

 guest. 



His wish of the twilight hour is that, when 

 life's troubled waters close about him, he 

 may sink into eternal sleep on his dearly be- 

 loved isle, where the whispering breeze sighs 

 its lullaby and wild roses still the flowers of 

 fairyland bloom. 



