THE QUEST

Evening Post, Volume CXVII, Issue 23, 27 January 1934, Page 8

THE QUEST

(Written by "Lassie," Kelburn, for Summer* Page.) IT was nigllt ... a night,of stillness and quiet loveliness. Serenely, the moon looked down from a sky palely blue for midnight, yet deeply blue for day. To the woodland path, up" the hillside, eamc a Wayfarer, purpose in her tread, a light of seeking ill her eyes. Up, she want, the occasional shadows of slender guiii saplings only seeming to make more plain the little beckoning path, and as she went there stirred anew in hei." heart that quest for Beauty that sent her ever on and on. ,Onec at the top she paused to catch her breath at the splendour of the sunrisu staining the sky above the rugged hill*. Then,'the song of wuki'ig birds in her ears, she smiled and walked on. Coming to a.garden gay with flowers, she entered to rest awhile at the edge of the lily-pool. Butterflies abounded . , •. little white bl«oze-blown' flower-petals they seemed, in the bright sunshine. The Wayfarer was about to go, but instead, turned to follow a shred of lovely blue—a butterfly more captivating than all the rest. Past the gracious old house it went, past the sundial,in its paved courtyard, darting'at last into the shade of pillared cloisters and out and, up again into the sunlight .beyond. ' ''■*.' "Here, truly, should I find Beauty," mused the Wayfarer," for 'the cloisters led to a chapel, where the- eager fingers of green Virginia creeper were reaching into the open windows., Entering, she stepped softly, till sho. stood beneath the great Koso Window, ever finding fresh and astonishing beauty as she gazed. , jf Into her quiet thoughts eamo tliu jewelled noto of a tui from' a nearby hill. 'Gathering her cloak about her, sho went out into the garden ,once more. .This .time, her way led her round the front tot the hill, where homesteads and farm lands lay spread at her feet. The light green of poplars and dark green of firs^ merging in the distance iuto ever-deepening blue, were bounded by a mountain range against the sky, Towards.the west she Went, until a turn in the road hid her from sight. ' Alittlo breeze stirred, then slept again. Presently the moon smiled down once more upon a resting world. She smiled because she knew the face of the Wayfarer . . . little children called her Summer . . . and because tho quest for Beauty was finding its own sweet fulfilment in Summer's heart.