3 ° 8 
Old Time Gardens 
must have heard of it. The gipsy in it says : c Life is 
sweet, brother. There’s day and night, brother, both 
sweet things ; sun, moon, and stars, brother, all sweet 
things; there is likewise a wind on the heath.’” 
He ( dubiously ). u That’s rather queer poetry, if it is poetry 
— and you must know I do not like to hear you call me 
brother.” 
Whereupon I discreetly betrayed my near presence 
on the piazza, to prove that the field, though still, 
was not deserted. And soon the twain said they 
would walk to the club house to view the golf 
prizes; and they left the Wild Thyme and Elder 
blossoms white, and turned their backs on the moon, 
and fell to golf and other eminently unromantic 
topics, far safer for Midsummer Eve than poesy and 
other sweet things. 
