an oxidised curl is a difficult point, for fairies have sharp eyes; and,
though it be impossible for a mortal to tell the real gold from the
false gold hair, the fairies may be able to do so, and might reject the
curl as counterfeit.

Again, if in the vegetable world green almost universally colours the
leaves, yellow has more to do with the flowers. The flowers we love best
are yellow: the cowslip, the daffodil, the crocus, the buttercup, half
the daisy, the honeysuckle, and the loveliest rose. Yellow, too, has its
turn even with the leaves; and what an artist he shows himself when, in
autumn, he 'lays his fiery finger' upon them, lighting up the forlorn
woodland with splashes--pure palette-colour of audacious gold! He hangs
the mulberry with heart-shaped yellow shields--which reminds one of the
heraldic importance of 'or,'--and he lines the banks of the Seine with
phantasmal yellow poplars. And other leaves still dearer to the heart
are yellow likewise; leaves of those sweet old poets whose thoughts seem
to have turned the pages gold. Let us dream of this: a maid with yellow
hair, clad in a yellow gown, seated in a yellow room, at the window a
yellow sunset, in the grate a yellow fire, at her side a yellow
lamplight, on her knee a Yellow Book. And the letters we love best to
read--when we dare--are they not yellow too? No doubt some disagreeable
things are reported of yellow. We have had the yellow-fever, and we have
had pea-soup. The eyes of lions are said to be yellow, and the ugliest
cats--the cats that infest one's garden--are always yellow. Some
medicines are yellow, and no doubt there are many other yellow
disagreeables; but we prefer to dwell upon the yellow blessings. I had
almost forgotten that the gayest wines are yellow. Nor has religion
forgotten yellow. It is to be hoped yellow will not forget religion. The
sacred robe of the second greatest religion of the world is yellow, 'the
yellow robe' of the Buddhist friar; and when the sacred harlots of