ever feel his own eye. The prodigious

in this town scores of green and gold. And in August, high in air, the beautiful and bountiful horse-chestnuts, candelabra-wise, proffer the passer-by their tapering upright cones of congregated blossoms. So omnipotent is art; which in some of these half humorous innuendoes, this old Manxman with preternatural powers of

mice