46 BOULDER REVERIES. 



XI. 



July 14, '01. It is not that which we dream 

 of doing, but that which we do, that counts. We 

 dream of an unknown future which never comes 

 to be. We hope for a better by and by, for a 

 happiness, a contentment that never is that 

 never will be. 



For several weeks no rain has fallen and the 

 majority of creeping, crawling animal life has 

 burrowed deep or has resorted to the close vicin- 

 ity of springs and streams, there to be in easy 

 reach of that water which is the prime neces- 

 sity of the animals of our temperate clime. On 

 turning over a boulder close to the bed of the 

 woodland stream which meanders through the 

 valley before me, I surprised a small worm 

 snake, 11 purplish brown above, pinkish or sal- 

 mon red beneath. With its sharp head it in- 

 stantly started to probe its way into the soil, 

 and with such strength did it cling to the earth 

 that I could not pull it loose but had to remove 

 the clay piecemeal from about it before I could 

 get it fully in hand. Then it coiled itself about 



s amwnus (Say). 



