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experience。 Between that and the other consecutive memories of my
boyhood there is a gulf。 A time came when it seemed impossible I
should ever speak of that wonder glimpse again。〃
I asked an obvious question。
〃No；〃 he said。 〃I don't remember that I ever attempted to
find my way back to the garden in those early years。 This seems
odd to me now； but I think that very probably a closer watch was
kept on my movements after this misadventure to prevent my going
astray。 No； it wasn't until you knew me that I tried for the
garden again。 And I believe there was a period incredible as it
seems nowwhen I forgot the garden altogetherwhen I was about
eight or nine it may have been。 Do you remember me as a kid at
Saint Athelstan's？〃
〃Rather！〃
〃I didn't show any signs did I in those days of having a secret dream？〃
II
He looked up with a sudden smile。
〃Did you ever play North…West Passage with me？ 。 。 。 。 。 No；
of course you didn't come my way！〃
〃It was the sort of game；〃 he went on； 〃that every imaginative
child plays all day。 The idea was the discovery of a North…West
Passage to school。 The way to school was plain enough； the game
consisted in finding some way that wasn't plain； starting off ten
minutes early in some almost hopeless direction； and working one's
way round through unaccustomed streets to my goal。 And one day I
got entangled among some rather low…class streets on the other side
of Campden Hill； and I began to think that for once the game would
be against me and that I should get to school late。 I tried rather
desperately a street that seemed a cul de sac； and found a
passage at the end。 I hurried through that with renewed hope。 'I
shall do it yet；' I said； and passed a row of frowsy little shops
that were inexplicably familiar to me； and behold！ there was my
long white wall and the green door that led to the enchanted
garden！
〃The thing whacked upon me suddenly。 Then； after all； that garden；
that wonderful garden； wasn't a dream！〃 。 。 。 。
He paused。
〃I suppose my second experience with the green door marks the
world of difference there is between the busy life of a schoolboy
and the infinite leisure of a child。 Anyhow； this second time I
didn't for a moment think of going in straight away。 You see 。 。
。 For one thing my mind was full of the idea of getting to school
in timeset on not breaking my record for punctuality。 I must
surely have felt SOME little desire at least to try the
dooryes； I must have felt that 。 。 。 。 。 But I seem to remember
the attraction of the door mainly as another obstacle to my
overmastering determination to get to school。 I was immediately
interested by this discovery I had made； of courseI went on with
my mind full of itbut I went on。 It didn't check me。 I ran past
tugging out my watch； found I had ten minutes still to spare； and
then I was going downhill into familiar surroundings。 I got to
school； breathless； it is true； and wet with perspiration； but in
time。 I can remember hanging up my coat and hat 。 。 。 Went right
by it and left it behind me。 Odd； eh？〃
He looked at me thoughtfully。 〃Of course； I didn't know then
that it wouldn't always be there。 School boys have limited
imaginations。 I suppose I thought it was an awfully jolly thing to
have it there； to know my way back to it； but there was the school
tugging at me。 I expect I was a good deal distraught and
inattentive that morning； recalling what I could of the beautiful
strange people I should presently see again。 Oddly enough I had no
doubt in my mind that they would be glad to see me 。 。 。 Yes； I
must have thought of the garden that morning just as a jolly sort
of place to which one might resort in the interludes of a strenuous
scholastic career。
〃I didn't go that day at all。 The next day was a half
holiday； and that may have weighed with me。 Perhaps； too； my state
of inattention brought down impositions upon me and docked the
margin of time necessary for the detour。 I don't know。 What I do
know is that in the meantime the enchanted garden was so much upon
my mind that I could not keep it to myself。
〃I toldWhat was his name？a ferrety…looking youngster we
used to call Squiff。〃
〃Young Hopkins；〃 said I。
〃Hopkins it was。 I did not like telling him； I had a feeling
that in some way it was against the rules to tell him； but I did。
He was walking part of the way home with me； he was talkative； and
if we had not talked about the enchanted garden we should have
talked of something else； and it was intolerable to me to think
about any other subject。 So I blabbed。
〃Well； he told my secret。 The next day in the play interval
I found myself surrounded by half a dozen bigger boys； half teasing
and wholly curious to hear more of the enchanted garden。 There was
that big Fawcettyou remember him？and Carnaby and Morley
Reynolds。 You weren't there by any chance？ No； I think I should
have remembered if you were 。 。 。 。 。
〃A boy is a creature of odd feelings。 I was； I really
believe； in spite of my secret self…disgust； a little flattered to
have the attention of these big fellows。 I remember particularly
a moment of pleasure caused by the praise of Crawshawyou remember
Crawshaw major； the son of Crawshaw the composer？who said it was
the best lie he had ever heard。 But at the same time there was a
really painful undertow of shame at telling what I felt was indeed
a sacred secret。 That beast Fawcett made a joke about the girl in
green。〃
Wallace's voice sank with the keen memory of that shame。 〃I
pretended not to hear；〃 he said。 〃Well； then Carnaby suddenly
called me a young liar and disputed with me when I said the thing
was true。 I said I knew where to find the green door； could lead
them all there in ten minutes。 Carnaby became outrageously
virtuous； and said I'd have toand bear out my words or suffer。
Did you ever have Carnaby twist your arm？ Then perhaps you'll
understand how it went with me。 I swore my story was true。 There
was nobody in the school then to save a chap from Carnaby though
Crawshaw put in a word or so。 Carnaby had got his game。 I grew
excited and red…eared； and a little frightened； I behaved
altogether like a silly little chap； and the outcome of it all was
that instead of starting alone for my enchanted garden； I led the
way presentlycheeks flushed； ears hot； eyes smarting； and my soul
one burning misery and shamefor a party of six mocking； curious
and threatening school…fellows。
〃We never found the white wall and the green door 。 。 。〃
〃You mean？〃
〃I mean I couldn't find it。 I would have found it if I could。
〃And afterwards when I could go alone I couldn't find it。 I
never found it。 I seem now to have been always looking for it
through my school…boy days； but I've never come upon it again。〃
〃Did the fellowsmake it disagreeable？〃
〃Beastly 。 。 。 。 。 Carnaby held a council over me for wanton
lying。 I remember how I sneaked home and upstairs to hide the
marks of my blubbering。 But when I cried myself to sleep at last
it wasn't for Carnaby； but for the garden； for the beautiful
afternoon I had hoped for； for the sweet friendly women and the
waiting playfellows and the game I had hoped to learn again； that
beautiful forgotten game 。 。 。 。 。
〃I believed firmly that if I had not told 。 。 。 。 。 I had
bad times after thatcrying at night and woolgathering by day。
For two terms I slackened and had bad reports。 Do you remember？
Of course you would！ It was YOUyour beating me in
mathematics that brought me back to the grind again。〃
III
For a time my friend stared silently into the red heart of the
fire。 Then he said： 〃I never saw it again until I was seventeen。
〃It leapt upon me for the third timeas I was driving to
Paddington on my way to Oxford and a scholarship。 I had just one
momentary glimpse。 I was leaning over the apron of my hansom
smoking a cigarette； and no doubt thinking myself no end of a man
of the world； and suddenly there was the door； the wall； the dear
sense of unforgettable and still attainable things。
〃We clattered byI too taken by surprise to stop my cab until
we were well past and round a corner。 Then I had a queer moment；
a double and divergent movement of my will： I tapped the little
door in the roof of the cab； and brought my arm down to pull out my
watch。 'Yes； sir！' said the cabman； smartly。 'Er wellit's
nothing；' I cried。 'MY mistake！ We haven't much time！ Go
on！' and he went on 。 。 。
〃I got my scholarship。 And the night after I was told of that
I sat over my fire in my little upper room； my study； in my
father's house； with his praisehis rare praiseand his sound
counsels ringing in my ears； and I smoked my favourite pipethe
formidable bulldog of adolescenceand thought of that door in th