162 



GOLDEN DAYS 



resplendent at castle Rohan. Time and 

 circumstance have not subdued their 

 arrogance. You should see these birds 

 to-day, preening their glossy necks, 

 rustling their feathers pompously the 

 while they move along the river-side 

 treading the rank -grown lawn with 

 delicate precision. To the tired fisherman 

 trudging home at twilight their call 

 sounds friendly. When the water is clear 

 and low and fish are sulky, then the pea- 

 cock's scrannel voice is not a harsh scream 

 but rather a melodious siren, the certain 

 harbinger of coming rain. 



But now, in our garden it is hot noon- 

 day. Under the further wall are fat and 

 yellow gourds which sun themselves along 

 with straw-crowned beehives. Further 

 are sturdy blue-leaved cabbages which 

 hold the rain-drops and the dew, and then 

 come rows of beans and leeks and 

 succulent fresh lettuce. Just by the 

 garden door is a great clump of tall 

 artichauts, their purple head-dresses accen- 

 tuated by the background of faded wood. 

 Beyond you'll find neat patches of parsley 

 and mint with thyme and tarragon ; there 



