THE LIGHT 91 



be the general opinion. It is noticeable 

 that Mr. Disraeli and other novelists who 

 are careful about local colour usually have 

 the sky well clouded when hero or heroine, 

 or both, set out to fish by the banks of 

 some romantic stream. Each of the rest 

 of our dozen witnesses might have a theory 

 of his own. As a rule it would be a nega- 

 tive theory. "A glare on the water" 

 would be the bane of one ; another would 

 like a thin veil of fleecy clouds ; another 

 would prefer the light of a day, character- 

 istic of April, on which the sun is hidden 

 and peeps out alternately ; another would 

 have but little hope if the ripples were 

 tipped with silvery gleams ; another would 

 dread "lanes of light" lying upon the 

 surface of the water ; others, according to 

 individual fancies, would think well of any 

 light in which the water was not too blue, 

 or too gray, or too yellow, or too red, or 

 too green, or too purple. Probably the 

 only thought on which all would be 

 unanimous is that the light which falls 

 from a cloudless sky would never do at 



