OUR FAVORITE JAUNTS 



"Come and see," said the smiling guardian, and 

 pushing off in the tiny flat-bottomed boat we silently 

 punted into the midst of the parting leaves. 



"They are birds!" I exclaimed, for when we came 

 too close the swallows sluggishly rose only to seek the 

 nearest perch again. "Birds! There must be hun- 

 dreds of them." 



"Yes, they love to drink from the lotus pods," an- 

 swered the guardian. "It must make them feel queer 

 for a while, but it does n't hurt 'em any." 



When the petals of the lotus drop away the cup- 

 like seed-pod stands exposed, offering its contents to 

 the blue-winged swallows who, sweeping in great cir- 

 cles over these Elysian fields, with reckless self-in- 

 dulgence drink the sleep-producing liquid and on the 

 upright perches rest, dreaming rapturously. 



These wild water plants are difficult to cultivate; 

 the guardian told us that for fifteen years he had ex- 

 perimented and had only just succeeded in making some 

 of the lotus plants live in another section of the lake. 

 What a beautiful addition they would be to any water 



221 



