CHAPTER XIII. 



MORNING AND EVENING LIGHT. 



The morning and evening light play freely 

 on our garden world. It is such a pleasure to 

 see and study it. I watch it so interestedly be- 

 cause it is so variable in the passing hours of 

 day and night, so often elusive and dissolving, 

 changing in tone and character — a puzzle, a 

 surprise, and an enjoyment. Now it is dull and 

 gray, weird and bewitching, bright and joyous, 

 golden hued and purplish tinted, indeed all pos- 

 sible adjectives are needed to set it forth, and 

 fail at that. How few notice these endless va* 

 nations. The eye is dull where interest is dead. 

 Love and longing train this marvelous instru- 

 ment to singular dexterity and most accurate 

 work. My garden world grows so wide and 

 high, I wonder will it ever stop, but do not 

 wish it to. It is ever taking on new phases of 

 color and sending off new mixtures of fragrance. 



There is a mysterious power in light, baffling 

 all descriptions because it baffles all analysis and 

 all knowledge. We know some of its uses and 

 potentialities, we can descant on its beauties, de- 



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