bard] a brook acquaintance 65 



to be so near it. Else why would they have come and grown 

 there? Then, because it was so happy the brook laughed in 

 the brook's way of laughing of course, which you know is to find 

 some big stones and then ripple over them and the result is the 

 most musical laugh, you about ever heard. 



By this time, the little brook was growing up and had higher 

 banks and taller trees around it, and was beginning to feel that it 

 had really better be doing something besides play along its banks 

 forever. So it hurried on ever faster, and sang over its waterfalls 

 and laughed over its stones ever and ever louder; and very soon, 

 coming to the edge of the hill, it saw ahead, a brook much larger 

 than it had ever hoped to be, — a creek. And the brook said ' ' Now, 

 I know what I will do. I will go along with that creek, where it is 

 going. That will be doing something splendid certainly." So it 

 was about to plunge over the hill down to the creek, when it met 

 a big strong dam at the very top, which some men must have 

 made. This kept the brook from going as fast as it wanted to, 

 but nothing could hold it back entirely. It fell over the dam, 

 on the smooth slippery rocks a long ways down and then gathered 

 itself together and made a grand sweep around, just as though it 

 were trying to show that it could do most anything, even turn its 

 back on the creek, and yet go there just the same. And then 

 what do you think ? Instead of rushing up to the creek with a loud 

 how-d'ye do, the little brook, when it was not far away, modestly 

 sank into the ground, and went to meet the creek in that mysterious 

 way. So we really never saw the brook reach the creek, but we 

 know it got there, because it was such a determined little brook. 

 And what the little brook and the big creek did, you must read in 

 the next chapter. 



'Tis the world's winter; 

 Autumn and summer 

 Are gone long ago. 

 Earth is dry to the centre, 

 But spring, a new comer, 

 A spring rich and strange 

 Shall make the winds blow 

 Round and round, 

 Through and through, 

 Here and there, 

 Till the air 

 And the ground 

 Shall be filled with life anew. 



Alfred Tennyson. 



