CHAPTER X 



A FEBRUARY FRESHET 



ONE of the very interesting events in my out- 

 of-door year is the February freshet. Per- 

 haps you call it the February thaiv. That 

 ' is all it could be called this year ; and, in fact, 

 a thaw is all that it ever is for me, nowadays, living, 

 as I do, high and dry here, on Mullein Hill, above 

 a sputtering little trout brook that could not have a 

 '; freshet if it tried. 



I But Maurice River could have a freshet without 



; trying. Let the high south winds, the high tides, and 



^ the warm spring rains come on together, let them 



' drive in hard for a day and a night, as I have 



'. known them to do, and the deep, dark river goes 



/ mad ! The tossing tide sweeps over the wharves, 



swirls about the piles of the great bridge, leaps 



foaming into the air, and up and down its long high 



', banks beats with all its wild might to break through 



into the fertile meadows below. 



There are wider rivers, and other, more exciting 



,*<> things, than spring freshets ; but there were not 



' when I was a boy. Why, Maurice River was so wide 



\ that there was but a single boy in the town, as I 



remember, who could stand at one end of the draw- 





