gather violets, while I walked in the trodden path."

"He babbled of genial wine and of the alert lips of
women, of swinging censers and of the serene countenances
of priests, and of the clear, lovely colors of
bread and butter, and his heart was troubled by a
world profuse in beauty. And he leaped a stile to share
his allotted provision with a dying dog, and afterward,
being hungry, a wall to pilfer apples, while I walked
in the trodden path.

"He babbled of Autumn's bankruptcy and of the age-long
lying promises of Spring; and of his own desire
to be at rest; and of running waters and of decaying
leaves. He babbled of the far-off stars; and he debated
whether they were the eyes of God or gases which
burned, and he demonstrated, with logic, that neither
existed. At times he stumbled as he stared about him
and munched his apples, so that he was all bemired, but
I walked in the trodden path.

"And the path led to the gateway of a citadel, and
through the gateway. 'Let us not enter,' he said, 'for
the citadel is vacant, and, moreover, I am in profound
terror, and, besides, I have not as yet eaten all my
apples.' And he wept aloud, but I was not afraid, for
I had walked in the trodden path."

Again there was a silence. "You paint a dreary world, my Prince."