XII 



A PEKSIAN GAEDEN 



IN a quiet corner of the land — ^just where 

 I may not tell you! — a little garden nes- 

 tles by the side of a gently flowing 

 stream, whose clear, rippling music is only lost 

 when it meets the slow old river below, where 

 low-bending willow-trees whisper their dirges 

 to the waters. Above the little garden a long 

 row of yews touches a hedge, the other side of 

 which is reached by a stile. And if one fol- 

 lows this hedge to the right, he will be led into 

 a grove of sycamores, whence a winding path 

 leads to a stone wall with gate exactly front- 

 ing the side of a picturesque, old-world look- 

 ing cottage of stone. A turn in the river forms 

 the nearest boundary of the premises, but the 

 land which surrounds this cottage, extends at 

 least three-quarters of a mile in every direc- 

 tion. In front a' noble line of elms borders 



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