170 THROUGH LIBRARY WINDOWS 



so like fairy folk, so like a bright blossom on 

 gauzy pinions, coming like diamond flashes 

 and dashing away exhilarated on the sweet nec- 

 tar of the vine. They nest yonder in the white 

 birch and a dainty nest it is with two of the 

 tiniest ivory eggs ever laid. 



Trees add so much to our garden. They 

 give tone and character. They are as fit a gar- 

 den subject as flowers. Their growth and life 

 is a constant source of wonder, the great roots 

 and greater trunk and wide spreading branches 

 and breathing building leaves, the infinity of 

 form and expression they perpetually assume, 

 the strength and durability and generosity, 

 these strong characteristics ever inspire the 

 grander and finer emotions. I pity the man or 

 woman who is not on speaking terms with some 

 of these grand old trees, for they seem to us 

 more like persons than things. They work on 

 our moods, through their moods, appealing as 

 no flower or shrub can. They interpret them- 

 selves to us as if they knew us. Beneath them 

 the heart feels nearer to that depth of life the 

 far sky means. That spiritual repose found 

 only in ideal and pure beauty comes then be- 

 cause the touch and color to tree and sky and 

 earth are blent into unity, then imagination pic- 

 tures her brightest and best. We don't wonder 



