234 THE BROOK BOOK 



did this matter during the flood season. They 

 sometimes suffer for it later by being choked by 

 rubbish of their own depositing! When this hap- 

 pens they waste a great deal of time digging new 

 channels. Fall Brook tried to put one through 

 my dooryard once ! " 



The rain outside had hardly ceased when I left 

 the Geologist by the fireside and started home. 

 As I crossed the big bridge below the pounding 

 waterfall, I was musing upon the power of Fall 

 Brook and at what it had accomplished during the 

 thirty thousand years it had been at work. The 

 water even now was the color of cafe au lait. 

 This must have been because of the clay it was 

 carrying. Though I could see no large stones in 

 the fall itself, I could detect a considerable roll- 

 ing about of the well rounded ones at the bottom. 

 Where the full force of the cataract had beaten 

 for ages a deep basin had been cut in the rocky 

 bottom. I had not expected so soon to see such 

 perfect illustrations of the Geologist's story. 



As I passed along to the open field I found 

 our little brook, a mere ditch in ordinary weather, 

 fiercely rushing along. Its water, too, was a dirty 

 yellow, and I could feel the pebbles grate against 

 my arm as I thrust it into the swiftest current. 

 Yesterday the lush grass grew high on the sloping 

 sides and even in the very channel of this tiny 

 streamlet. To-day it lay prone on the earth, while 

 a flood of muddy water bore it down. I followed 

 this heretofore unheeded stream across the open 

 and level meadow to see what it had done with 



