sailed to England to superintend the publishing of the Faerie
Queene: so from what I know of authors' habits, it is probable that
Spenser did read him the poem under the Yew Tree in Myrtle Grove
garden. It seems long ago, does it not, when the Faerie Queene was
a manuscript, tobacco just discovered, the potato a novelty, and the
first Irish cherry-tree just a wee thing newly transplanted from the
Canary Islands? Were our own cherry-trees already in America when
Columbus discovered us, or did the Pilgrim Fathers bring over
'slips' or 'grafts,' knowing that they would be needed for George
Washington later on, so that he might furnish an untruthful world
with a sublime sentiment? We re-read Salemina's letter under the
Yew Tree:-

Coolkilla House, Cork.
MY DEAREST GIRLS,--It seems years instead of days since we parted,
and I miss the two madcaps more than I can say. In your absence my
life is always so quiet, discreet, dignified,--and, yes, I confess
it, so monotonous! I go to none but the best hotels, meet none but
the best people, and my timidity and conservatism for ever keep me
in conventional paths. Dazzled and terrified as I still am when you
precipitate adventures upon me, I always find afterwards that I have
enjoyed them in spite of my fears. Life without you is like a
stenographic report of a dull sermon; with you it is by turns a
dramatic story, a poem, and a romance. Sometimes it is a penny-
dreadful, as when you deliberately leave your luggage on an express
train going south, enter another standing upon a side track, and
embark for an unknown destination. I watched you from an upper
window of the Junction Hotel, but could not leave Benella to argue
with you. When your respected husband and lover have charge of you,
you will not be allowed such pranks, I warrant you.