I sought in vain to
recover my normal point of view. My mind had found this goblin garden
and wandered to and fro in it, unable to escape.
The change was in myself, of course, and so trivial were the details
which illustrated it, that they sound absurd, thus mentioned one by one.
For me, they proved it, is all I can affirm. The goblin touch lay
plainly everywhere: in the forms of the trees, planted at neat intervals
along the lawns; in this twisted ash that rustled just behind me; in the
shadow of the gloomy wellingtonias, whose sweeping skirts obscured the
grass; but especially, I noticed, in the tops and crests of them. For
here, the delicate, graceful curves of last year's growth seemed to
shrink back into themselves. None of them pointed upwards. Their life
had failed and turned aside just when it should have become triumphant.
The character of a tree reveals itself chiefly at the extremities, and
it was precisely here that they all drooped and achieved this hint of
goblin distortion--in the growth, that is, of the last few years. What
ought to have been fairy, joyful, natural, was instead uncomely to the
verge of the grotesque. Spontaneous expression was arrested. My mind
perceived a goblin garden, and was caught in it.
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