FIRST VISIT TO STONY BROOK 3 



spitefully I am afraid, for I was tired and the day 

 was warm. 



"This is a vanishing brook," laughed the Pro- 

 fessor; "something like the Cheshire Cat." 



Then, while we rested, he told me a little about 

 how brooks behave. It seems that they are not 

 always open and above-board in their dealings, chat- 

 tering and tattling their secrets to every passer-by, 

 but that they are quite likely to drop out of sight, 

 without giving notice, and to reappear again further 

 along their course. That is just what Stony Brook 

 does. On another trip I went down from the bridge 

 and found where the water returns to its rocky bed 

 and hurries along as cheerfully as if a subterranean 

 channel had never been heard of. 



We started up stream. Before we had gone far 

 we found the water, clear and cold, just as a moun- 

 tain brook should be, and breaking into a hundred 

 tiny waterfalls wherever one flat stone happened 

 to lie lower than another. Along the bank the 

 trees cast a dense shadow, and the temperature 

 began to fall as we ascended. The banks them- 

 selves began to straighten up and left us barely 

 room enough to walk dry-shod. The Professor 

 was picking up small flat stones from where the 

 water ran swiftly, and I could but guess what he 

 was finding. Almost mechanically I, too, began 

 picking up flat stones and looking them over. 



"See here!" came the summons at last; and I 

 knew the Professor would tell me just enough to 

 make me want to know more. I looked, and what 

 had before seemed to me mere pebbles sticking to 



