There was that feeling of impending relief from pain, then as of a healing touch when glorious sunshine ushered in Easter Sunday. Larks poured out their soul into a cloudless sky over the battlefield of the White Mountain, the pale green of larches showed up bravely among the riot of live purple and crimson and the flashing trunks of birches, over the wall that confines the park of the Star. The Star itself, that singular monument, a former hunting-box of Bohemian Kings and built in the shape of a six-pointed star, is undergoing renaissance: it is being arranged as a museum for the Czecho-Slovak legionaries. The little brook that makes such a long detour on its way to join the Vltava, passing through the rocky gorge and the winding valley of the Sharka, was very emphatic on the subject of spring's arrival, and its voice must have penetrated to secluded nooks and crannies, rousing sluggard forms of life from winter sleep. Spring was asserting itself with all the glorious certainty of youth, and was calling aloud to all and sundry to come out and witness a brave display in the many gardens of Prague. I doubt whether any other town in Europe is so well equipped with gardens as is Prague for its size. Chiefest among these is the Stromovka, on the northern slope of the Letna Hill. Your best approach is from the direction of the castle by a broad and shady avenue which leads you first down, then up again to a little plateau where stands a building called Zámek. This building is said to be an old hunting-box of Bohemian royalty: it certainly tries its best to look ancient, but fails to convince you. Then by shady winding ways down the slope to a broad valley deep in verdure. A little stream, which broadens into a lake, keeps up the necessary moisture, and the grass and the weeping willows in their loveliness offer it their silent thanks. The trees on the northern slope grow high: they had to do so to meet the sunshine. There are broad, shady drives and rides, and many seats, also two restaurants, with at least one band playing heartily of an afternoon. But the beauty spot in all this loveliness is right in the centre--a rose-garden. It is no use trying to describe this rose-garden; only a poet could do that, so all I say is, Come and see for yourself. Other public gardens I would mention, at least the larger ones--Kinský, Nebozízek, Riegrovy--but there are a number of others, smaller ones, with shady nooks and plenty of seats. These gardens are dispersed about the town in its workaday quarters; at midday--in fact, at any time of day--you may see the workers enjoying a rest and also whatever kindly fruits of the earth happen to be in season--in July your path is paved with cherry-stones. There are rows of trees along many of the streets; there are many private gardens of palace, hospital, monastery or convent, adding the freshness of their verdure to the beauty of Prague.