ONLY A PEBBLE. 23 



of Asia and Africa; he creates those terrible deserts, 

 where the tinkling of the camel's bell alone breaks the 

 dead silence. There the soil burns, the air glows, hot 

 vapors alone seem to live. But even here the pebble 

 tries to create new shapes. He gives himself up to the 

 wild sports of the winds; like a huge water-spout he 

 rushes up and down the fearful waste, or he paints, with 

 enchanted colors, wondrous images of cool gardens, blue 

 hills, and refreshing fountains. 



Even into the other kingdoms of Nature he finds his 

 way. He wrestles with the powers of the earth and, after 

 conquest, compels them to serve him as useful allies. 

 Wheat and oats, rye and barley, all need a flinty soil; 

 all grasses, that feed our domestic animals and man him- 

 self, drink with their roots in rain and spring water, large 

 quantities of dissolved flint. It is an humble and de- 

 spised thing, the worthless straw and the low stalk of 

 grass; and yet it surpasses in beauty and boldness of 

 structure the graceful palm and the storm-defying oak. 

 Slily, slowly, the pebble's tiniest parts mingle with the 

 soft waters of the earth, and ascend, through root and 

 radicle, into the heart of joyous plants. Man has no 

 lofty steeple, the world no proud pyramid, that can com- 

 pare with the airy and yet solid structure of the humble 

 blade of grass. Thanks to the little pebble, its hollow 

 column rises high above moss and clod ; its tower fills 

 story after story with rich food for man; the rain cannot 

 enter into the safe chambers; the wind can bend but not 

 break the elastic pillar. 



Thus the pebble unites with his enemy, water, to create 



