the happiest of my summers--it seemed to me that that was my particular
kingdom, and I adored it.

It was in truth a beautiful yard, much more sunny and airy than the
majority of city gardens. Its long avenue of green and flowery branches,
that overtopped the heads of the neighboring fruit trees, was bordered
on the south by a low and ancient wall over which grew roses and
honeysuckles. The long leafy avenue gave the impression of great depth,
and its perspective melted into a bower of vines and jasmine bushes
that in turn became a great verdant place, which came to an end at a
storehouse of ancient construction, whose gray stones were hidden under
ivy vines.

Ah! How I loved that garden, and how much I still love it!

I believe the keenest, earliest memories are of the beautiful long
summer evenings. Oh! the return from a walk during those long, clear
twilights that certainly were more delicious than are those of
to-day. What joy to re-enter that yard which the thorn-apples and the
honeysuckles filled with the sweetest odor, to enter and see from the
gate all the long avenue of tangled greenness. Through an opening in a
bower of Virginia Creeper I could see the rosy splendor of the setting
sun; and somewhat removed in the gathering shadows of the foliage, there
were distinguishable three or four persons. The persons, it is
true, were very quiet and they were dressed in black, but they were
nevertheless very reassuring to me, very familiar and very much beloved:
they were the forms of mother, grandmother and aunts. Then I would run
to them hastily and throw myself upon their laps, and that was always
one of the happiest moments of my day.