I have been breathing an atmosphere pure and fresh as the world's first morning, redolent with the fragrance of Eden's virgin blossoms." He paused a moment, then approaching his own portrait, glanced from it to the flower girl, and back again from the flower girl to his own image.
"Clouds and sunshine," he exclaimed, "flowers and thorns; such is the union nature loves.

And is it not well?
Clouds temper the dazzle of the sunbeams,--thorns protect the tender flowers.

Have you read many of these books ?" he asked, with a sudden transition.
"A great many," I answered, unspeakably relieved to hear him resume his natural tone and manner; "too many for my mind's good." "How so?
These are all select works,--golden sheaves of knowledge, gathered from the chaff and bound by the reaping hand." "I mean that I cannot read with moderation.

My rapid eye takes in more than my judgment can criticize or my memory retain.

That is one reason why I like to hear another read.