The Hive

ession. Steve and I had liked it much out on the Southern California strand.... When one reads in the earlier boo

and own and insure, that we decided we should be doing the things that the others could not. We were glad to have built the house for the other fellow. We had to do it. We learned how to run it well, in and out-but it was a stone house

the road or garden from the inside of the house. The world must be regarded from outside to be seen as a whole. The New R

ean lawlessness. I mean the higher law that is found at last by the quester after goodness, beauty and truth. We have to finish with the world as it is before we set out in quest of a better country.... We found

to the end of the love of self which destroys the vision for friendship; to the end of domesticity which holds one's neighbour as prey or rival; to the end of civi

study and the big stone house, the elms so strong and green about it. I remembered the early picture of all this. It began from Stevenson's Treasure of Franchard, many

in books-blooms and fruits of such colours that nature would never be guilty of-all the fruits I heard o

up thousands of yards of sand. It worked-the old struggle of wasting banks forgotten until a greater storm. The honeysuckles that were planned to climb

t be worn in peace. We came with a great idea of food-game and fishes, meats, poultry, many cans and vegetables and desserts. We went away with a taste for graham bread and butter-a spread of honey, a glass of milk. We came with a fear of dise

he Lake fill with sunshine. We came with parasols and awnings and protections against the sun. Most of us would like to have worn nothing

s from heat is. It's a vile state of the body, or vile clothing that stifles the body. When one is well and has learned to come back to the Father of Lights-there is no fear in his heart. I used to wear a helmet and dark glasses, but no more-eyes strong

selection of thoughts over a little period, we can come into the joy of flowers in other people's gardens. There are brave men who allow you to walk in thei

d bungalow, where formerly we wanted an estate. We realise, at last, that there is an essence to be obtained from the extract, an oil from the essence-a spirit at last from the oil. The whole story is in that-synthesis. Slowly, at last, we begin to set oursel

the Chapel. "One could put th

s out of it. He thinks he must possess, that he must hoard against a rainy day, and he gathers the stuff of death about him. If he cannot rise, death covers him for the time. Dr. Duprez didn't speak of the care of his orchard, or his garden. It was all story to me. Dear R.L.S. He didn't dream of the work of the hand neces