ing each side o£ your glad gateway. I do not won- 

 der it is glad, for you rapturously wrap yourself 

 about the rustic arch above it, and smilingly look 

 down at me — childlike — with your high airs! 



Tell me Gruss an Teplitz is there one fault 

 I can find with you? Yes, there is one fault, lux- 

 uriant Gruss an Teplitz. I count only sixty of 

 your standard bearers. Why only thirty on each 

 side of the narrow stone pathway that separates 

 you from your comrades vis-a-vis, and in between 

 these standards, almost hiding the gray supports 

 they have tied you to so fast, why only thirty-one 

 of your little sisters the Misses Bush Gruss an 

 Teplitz on each side? Why not more of you to 

 send your delicious fragrance in the hill-wind? 



Gruss an Teplitz, I love your bold, your beau- 

 tiful precision. Who placed you all in such a per- 

 fect line. Tell me, who so cruelly separated each 

 of you from the other by "rule of inch?" It seems 

 unfair to you, but dear Red Rose Walk, I love your 



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