16 



A TOUa ROUND MY GARUEK. 



your youth, your hopes, your visions, of all which is aireaay 

 dead in you — 



*' Few men the secret learn of growing old; 

 Like certain fruits, they rot, but ripen hot." 



Tell me, are we to-day that which we were yesterday, or 

 shall be to-morrow? Have we not cause to make singular 

 observations upon oiuselves daily ? Do we not present a 

 curious spectacle to ourselves? 



Well, I will decide to commence my journey to-morrow, or 

 perhaps I shall fiuith by finding that it is, too great an exer- 

 tion, even to make the tour of one's garden. 



