A SPRING HERESY 95 



I was about to pass on when she asked, "Is this 

 where the tide comes ? " I told her it was but a 

 pond, and that it was the wind that made the froth 

 on the leeside of it. " Ain't this the Mersey ? " she 

 asked. I pointed where the river ran a few fields 

 distant. " What it said in the bible," she went on 

 abstractedly, looking on the ground, " Ain't this where 

 the Philistones corned ? " then, looking up, as if in 

 explanation" where they thro wed in the gold ? " 



I looked at the woman, and then at the pond, 

 wondering if indeed they were there ; or if I, perhaps, 

 were elsewhere, dreaming of a phantom pond from 

 which this wraith of Sally herself had crept out 

 to question me. Seeing me doubtful, she asked 

 further, "Ain't there the little bridge where the 

 tide comes ? " I told her we were thirty miles from 

 the sea and no tide came so far. "My husband 

 brought me to the little bridge to see the tide come," 

 she persisted ; then, putting the sheet of paper 

 between the leaves of a book she carried, " I can't 

 remember,'' she said, "it's too much trouble to 

 remember." 



I saw that she was crazed, and left her. But, after 

 I had gone fifty yards, I turned to look, and saw 

 that she was standing to watch me, her hair and 

 shawl blown about by the wind. 



" Ain't there the little bridge ? " she called wearily. 

 But I went on ; for I had twice before seen betwixt 

 bridge and tide that which had found them only too 

 well, but would seek neither any more. 



How restricted are the beats of some birds during 

 their winter sojourn in any part, is more than usually 



