Further South we come to Dangerous Ground, which slopes down to Lover’s Leap. Near here is Fool’s Paradise. This is a popular spot and often most delicious adventures may be met here. The dwellers in Fool’s Paradise are absurdly happy, and sometimes climb a small eminence in the center of the place, known as the Height of Folly. To the West is a range of Blue Mountains. The despairing swain often climbs these, but when he reaches Mount Hope the world looks brighter and he soon gets back to the Happy Valley. AN ARCADIAN LADY MY LADY OF DELIGHT With roguish glances bright, All on a summer’s day, My Lady of Delight She stole my heart away. And though I humbly beg And plead with her, alack! My Lady of Delight She will not give it back. Oh, Lady of Delight, The penalty is this— If you would keep the heart you stole Then pay me with a kiss. My Lady of Delight, She is a winsome thing; She’s Queen of Summertime And Princess of the Spring. The glory of her smile, The sunshine in her eyes, Is like the dawn of breaking day Across the morning skies. To linger by her side Is such delicious bliss, Methinks I’ll steal her heart from her, And pay her with a kiss. ARCADY Arcady, the capital and chief city of the province of Arcadia, is a thickly settled town, with delightful outlying districts and suburban surroundings. * * * * * PRELIMINARY RAMBLE: The stranger visiting Arcady for the first time cannot do better than to begin by a walk down Lovers’ Lane, where he must surely be impressed by the shady trees and luxuriantly blooming flowers. Although sometimes flooded with morning sunshine, it is usually evening in Arcady. The moon shines always, sometimes a Honeymoon glows brightly, and there are generally stars, or perhaps a tender twilight with a fading sunset. On each side of the lane are the small houses of the Love-in-a-Cottage Colony. These cottages are rose-embowered and have white dimity curtains tied with blue ribbons. Crossing Lovers’ Lane at right angles is Primrose Path, the fashionable street of Arcady. The dwellings here are air castles (mostly of Spanish architecture) and dreams of marble halls. One of the most celebrated mansions is Claude Melnotte’s: A palace lifting to eternal summer Its marble walls, from out a glossy bower Of coolest foliage musical with birds, . . . while the perfumed light Stole through the mists of alabaster lamps, And every air was heavy with the sighs Of orange groves and music from sweet lutes, And murmurs of low fountains that gush forth I’ the midst of roses!