Back to the Bright Lights 



with music" may usually be relied upon 

 to dissipate the "cares that infest the 

 day." I certainly do love the roses and 

 the orchids and the song-birds of the 

 opera. But after all the coin is coun- 

 terfeit. And so at last I come back 

 always to the picture of a certain peace- 

 ful spot where bright old-fashioned 

 flowers are waving in the summer air, 

 where hollyhocks do rear their decora- 

 tive heads, where the delicate fragrance 

 of the four-o'clock is spread upon the 

 night breeze as the sun goes down, 

 where a catbird perches on a honey- 

 locust bough and twitters through his 

 cheery repertoire as his mate sits on 

 the nest beneath him in the hedge. 



I confess the alluring charm of 

 Oriental pearls about my lady's neck, 

 and of diamonds glittering gaily in the 

 bright lights; but on an early morn in 

 June there are a million jewels in the 

 bluegrass that put all your gems of 

 "purest ray serene" to shame; and 

 when at dusk the glowing Venus holds 



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