The 

 Even ing Prim rose 



HE summer which 

 allowed to pass 

 without a visit to 

 le twilight haunt 

 of the evening prim- 

 rose, perhaps at your very 

 door, is an opportunity missed. 

 Night after night for weeks it 

 breathes its fragrant invitation as its 

 luminous blooms flash out one by one from the 

 clusters of buds in the gloom, as though in eager 

 response to the touch of some wandering sprite, 

 until the darkness is lit up with their luminous 

 galaxy — that beautiful episode of blossom- con- 

 sciousness and hope so picturesquely described 

 by Keats : 



