Springtime has a way of re-viving the same impression which gained such currency, at such strenuous insis-tence, when we were told, history is over. On our after-breakfast stroll today, Thorny and I were repeatedly drawn to remark as novelties emerged to our inspection. Whereas my gaze may stray into diffuse approbations of a meadow in morning sun, and my inhalations commingle somewhat broadly, his remain excruciatingly thorough and detailed. Yet even he, an English dog, does not con-strue a new blossom as a new genus, and doesn't claim to have invented it. Is he in-corruptible because he is subhuman, or because he stud-ies facts?
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