92 GOLDEN DAYS 



discourse, but has no reference to our 

 esteemed aristocracy. It simply means an 

 Anglo-Saxon tourist who comes to Brittany 

 and will not understand. No, not the 

 language, but the things that count. 



Concerning pipes and talking of tobacco, 

 we would not slight their vesper fragrance. 

 Yet surely, for all of us, the after- break- 

 fast pipe must touch the more perfect 

 flavour. It comes to us virginal, fresh at 

 the youth of day, holding all promise, 

 " the worldly hope men set their hearts 

 upon," before it turns to ashes. For the 

 toilers of the city it must be fraught with 

 a wealth of reminiscence, suggestions of 

 holidays, halcyon days, and loafing home- 

 spuns, of sunny lawns, of breakfasts served 

 beneath the trees, clotted-cream, and 

 ample honey — freedom, no early train to 

 catch. For a time they shall escape the 

 fetters of their offices, the sounds of 

 commerce, clerks, and squeaking pens. 

 Awhile they shall listen with ear attuned 

 to fairy voices a-tinkle in the sun- 

 drenched copse or along the dewy 

 hedgerow. 



If these be the simple joys of the lay 





