THE STREAMLET'S CRAFTS. 211 



green, luxuriant foliage. O, weather, thou 

 medley of sunshine, cloud and varying air cur- 

 rent, how much our pleasures, as the years go 

 by, are dependent upon thy changing moods ! 



To-day the purling ripple of the stream 

 again doth greet me. A great mass of foam, 

 formed in some manner by the onrushing tor- 

 rent after yesterday's rain, has lodged against 

 the bank just below a slight fall. The water, in 

 rushing past, at intervals bites off, as it were, 

 a portion and bears it on and on to lower levels. 

 These masses of foam are the only crafts now 

 sailing this stream. They go by quietly and 

 placidly. Perchance they collide, and for a 

 moment mingle their particles, then separate 

 and again glide onward. 



The waters from two springs merge and flow 

 together. They are soon joined by those of a 

 third, and their united current by those of many 

 more ; the whole, in time, forming a great river, 

 which finds its way down to the sea, the parent 

 or starting point, the beginning, the ending of 

 all. It is so with man. His days are his 

 springs, his onward flowing waters. They 



