II
MY NATIVE HORIZON
NATURE in Mt. Lebanon is as beautiful
as she is exacting. The seasons obey
her command and are ever ready to take
up their cue when she speaks. What
wonder after a million rehearsals and one!
They are as punctual as a solar eclipse,
as mild as the breath of Olympus, as
equable as the humor of an Oriental sage.
And never late or in a hurry. Neither
impatient are they to enter ere the curtain
rises, nor querulous should it ever rise too
soon. It seldom does.
And the seasons follow one another with the precision of marching regiments. They do not step on each other's heels, nor do they leave a vacancy between them for the imps of chaos. No, they neither borrow nor steal from each other in these climes. Winter, for instance, has as much respect for the calendar as the moon; he never makes his appearance before Autumn folds his tent and silently steals away. Nor is Autumn so selfish and inconsiderate as to
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