Raggylug 95 



doing this, but his mother saw and knew it was 

 a sign, like the changing of a boy's voice, that 

 her little one was no longer a baby but would 

 soon be a grown-up Cottontail. 



There is magic in running water. Who 

 does not know it and feel it? The railroad 

 builder fearlessly throws his bank across the 

 wide bog or lake, or the sea itself, but the 

 tiniest rill of running water he treats with 

 great respect, studies its wish and its way and 

 gives it all it seems to ask. The thirst-parched 

 traveller in the poisonous alkali deserts holds 

 back in deadly fear from the sedgy ponds till 

 he finds one down whose centre is a thin, clear 

 line, and a faint flow, the sign of running, living 

 water, and joyfully he drinks. 



There is magic in running water, no evil 

 spell can cross it. Tam O'Shanter proved its 

 potency in time of sorest need. The wild- 

 wood creature with its deadly foe following 

 tireless on the trail scent, realizes its nearing 

 doom and feels an awful spell. Its strength is 

 spent, its every trick is tried in vain till the 

 good Angel leads it to the water, the running, 

 living water, and dashing in it follows the cool* 



