happiness, whilst the rushes which were swept by the lively water, now a river, bent their nodding heads lower and lower till they kissed the sparkling wavelets and reared themselves again in their joy at having stolen such sweetness. Thus the river Pole swept onwards, an ever widening and deepening stream, spreading its fragrant influence around till the trees, shrubs and underwood became almost intoxicated with the luxuriance of their growth, and expanded their limbs in the ecstasy of being alive. And in the twilight of the green woods occasional lovers would be found, walking in its cool recesses and talking of the future, or perhaps merely walking together oblivious of all save that they were in love—love too deep for words, too strong and holy for expression in anything but silent thanks to heaven for the love which _is_ heaven; such are passed, they unnoticing and being unnoticed, “For in love’s domain Silence must reign; Or it brings the heart Smart And pain” and here and there the trees grew more widely apart and clearings were formed by nature almost specially for picnics and _alfresco_ meals, for the grass was thicker than any carpet and softer, having a deep bed of peat, whilst the murmuring stream and the faint hum of insects, and that delightful and peculiar sound of thousands of branches being gently swayed by the wind, lent a delightful accompaniment to the pleasantry and laughter inseparable from young and healthy hearts which, like the air and sky, are clear and sunny. To one of these clearings had Ross and Gilbert come for a little relaxation, because they knew that nature is always ready and able to give health and vigour to all who seek her, and they made a point of spending at least one half-day in each week in some spot on the beautiful earth where they could talk and revel in nature unalloyed, and after Ross had been looking for a few minutes into the throbbing ether, where the blue was flecked with streamers of ‘mares’ tails’ which floated in one of the higher strata, he suddenly rolled over to face his friend and said, seriously,— “Has it ever struck you, Gilbert, what a wonderful age this is?” “The age is all right, Ross, so far as I can see,” answered Gilbert, indifferently. “I don’t think so,” replied Ross, argumentatively. “It seems to me too matter-of-fact.” “What else would you have it? all fancy?” asked Gilbert, still indifferent, being hungry and absorbed in his meal. “No, of course not,” replied Ross, musingly, “but it seems to me that if a little of the past could be worked into the present it would leaven things a bit.” Here he paused, and as Gilbert did not offer any remark, he continued,—