The record-union., 1898-01-03
GARDEN OF DEAR DELIGHTS.
A Nursery Rhyme for the Youthful
Decadonf

The gray WEAKNESS of our talk irked
me. My glimmering fear dawned to a
dreadful certainty. Decidedly Mary
had no sense of things beautiful; in
| a word, no SOUL Her empty laughter
had long since died away; indeed, a
! note of ill-temper, almost of fury.
twanged harshly in her speech. And
! yet she was so young, so wise. so beau
tiful! Deep hidden, surely, a finer
sense must yet abide in a form so gra-
cious And, by good hap, I found it
| at the last
| Dear lady," I entreated, "the loftier
hight may yet be yours But you must
| be quito the bad old modes of thought;
you must mount to the untrammeled
SENSE
Il wish you'd mount to sense." she
| broke in, angrily. I've never heard
such nonsense in my life! Do let's
leave that affected jargon and talk
| about something else
Certainly. l assented, with a sigh.
| Yet 1t We're scarce necessary to speak
| so harshly. But, dear Mary, most un-
kind. most contrary 1 will cen touch
| another theme. Perchance," I added
with sudden thought, you have a
garden?''
Come, that's much better" said she
Il believe you're going to be intelligent
at last! Yes, 1 have a garden
II knew it," I responded with en-
thusiasn. ITO one thus fair must
surely appertain some dimly fragrant
| pleasaUnce, some spot bedight with
haralonies of color, some
"Oh, DEAR" she broke in, you're as
bad as ever"
Speak, then, my Mary" I replied
How does your garden grow?"
She eyed me strangely. Almost /
could have sworn that a smile lurked
around her mouth.
My garden? Oh-with silver bellst"
How exquisitei" I exclaimed. Dear.
sweet silver bells tinkling in the reso-
nant breeze! Tell me more-what else
| enhances that subtle charm?"
| She was moved-deeply moved. Clear
| ly she had more feeling tf1an I had
| supposed. She had her handkerchief
in her mouth, and her voice trembled as
gasped:
"With-oh, with cookie shells,"
| symbolism most apt! The message
| of the cockie-how deep, how true,
Fixed immovably to the arid rock, and
yet pointing high with it's summit, as
pirlng to the nobler hight-type Of ev-
| cry cultured soull I think I see that
| dear garden of yours, in which oft
times you wander solitary-or, per-
chance, do other maidens, beauteous as
yourself, share its sweet seclusion?"
| She seemed to be almost suffocated
by the gracious insight of my words.
| Lots Of en-" she cried, wellnigh chok-
| ing in the utterance, Tots of 'ernI All
| in a row.
| 1t lacked but that" quoth I ito
| make the picture perfect Dear damo-
sells, clad in fairest garb, not errant
among the pathways, but standing de-
mure in one far-reaching row. Fain
would / wander, Mary, in that garden,
| fain would +"
| AT this moment Mary suddenly with
/ drew, murmuring a. few broken words
| which almost seemed to sound like, of
all the screamingly funny idiots'-but
those they could not have been.
| And since then Mary has not crossed
my path, nor sought converse with me:
painfully conscious, doubtless. of her
own inferiority. Poor child, 1 despise
her not And some day we will seek
together that pleasant place 1 wot of:
yea, hand in hand shall we wander
amid tile dulcet sounding bells and the
! piquant cookie shells, and the damsels
| Wondrous beautiful, some day will I
flee the blatant turbulence of the street.
| and stray at ease in the Garden of
| Dear Delights-Punch.