It was so sudden, so unexpected.

Beneath that grey and solemn boulder that Time and man accepted as a freehold tenant of the world, that our citizen had seen and passed a hundred times, a population of experts were working, their deeds unseen by the wayfarer.

Now what is the meaning of this little story?
How did the discovery of that horde of capable experts strike the imagination of our golfer?
The boulder was Rembrandt.
The busy insects were the learned and patient students working quietly on his behalf--his discoverers and recoverers.

He had passed that boulder a hundred times, his eyes had rested cursorily upon it as often as the name of Rembrandt in book or newspaper had met his indifferent gaze.

Now he had raised the boulder, as he had lifted the Rembrandt curtain, and lo! behind the curtain, as beneath the boulder, he had discovered life miraculously active.
Reverence for the students of art, for the specialists, for the scientific historians, was born within him as he pursued his studies in Rembrandt lore.