THE LURE OF THE GARDEN 
of the palm branches, trembling airily where the papy¬ 
rus bent its antique head, dancing among the big blades 
of sturdy grass that sprouted in tufts here and there, 
resting languidly upon the glisteningmagnolias that were 
besieged by somnolent bees. All the greens and all the 
golds of Creation were surely met together in this pro¬ 
found retreat to prove the perfect harmony of earth with 
sun. . . . The dream of this garden was quick with a 
vague and yet fierce stirring of realities. There was the 
murmuring of many small and distant voices, like the 
voices of innumerable tiny things following restless activ¬ 
ities in a deep forest ... a brown butterfly flitted 
forward and vanished into the golden dream beyond. . . 
