34 THE JONATHAN PAPERS 



stillness of rock-bound, hemlock-shadowed 

 pools. All the brooks we followed, whether 

 with good luck or with bad, I remember with 

 delight. No, all except one. But I do not 

 blame the brook. 



It happened in this way: One Monday 

 morning, after an abstemious Sunday, the 

 zeal of Jonathan brought us forth at dawn 

 in fact, a little before dawn. I had consented, 

 because, although my zeal compared to Jona 

 than s is as a flapping hen compared to a soar 

 ing eagle, yet I reflected that I should enjoy 

 the sunrise and the early bird -songs. We 

 emerged, therefore, in the dusk of young 

 morning, and I had my first reward in a lovely 

 view of meadows half-veiled in silvery mist, 

 where the brook wound, and upland pastures 

 of pale gray-green against ridges of shadowy 

 woods. But I was not prepared for the sensa 

 tion produced by the actual plunge into those 

 same meadows. I say plunge advisedly. I 

 shiver yet as I recall the icy chill of that dew- 

 drenched grass. It was worse than wading a 

 brook, because there was no reaction. Jona 

 than, however, did not seem depressed by it, 

 so I followed his eager steps without remark. 



