"How do you come to know all these interesting things?" inquired Reva during a pause in my eloquence.
"From old books," was my reply. "I hope to be able to show you a representation of this plant in one of the books expected to-day."
"In what language is the book?" she inquired.
"In the English of the nineteenth century."
"I have read that many languages were in use at that time. Do you know any other beside that you mentioned?"
"More or less of four others, though none so well as that."
"What languages were those?"
"Greek, Latin, German, and French."
"I have some idea of the peoples by whom they were spoken. It must have taken you a long time to learn so many different ways of expressing the same thought. Yet it must be something to possess the power of reading the very words that moved the minds of men in those faroff times. It must make you feel sometimes as if you had known them personally, and had heard them speak. You must be able to sympathize with their hopes and fears and strivings, in a way impossible for others.
"Yes, it is so difficult to realize, that, so many centuries ago, the sun was shining just as it does now upon this fair earth, that other eyes then looked on grass and flowers and branches waving in the summer wind, and, as they saw the sun verging to those familiar hills, thought and planned for the to-morrow that was to come and to pass away like millions upon millions since."
As she spoke she had risen from her seat, and stood
