106 



WINTER 



V } bridge and skim an oyster-shell over to the opposite' 

 ^ end ! The best that I could do was to throw 

 * voice across and hear it echo from the long, hollow 

 barn on the other bank. It would seem to me to strike ! 

 the barn in the middle, leap from end to end like a,{ 

 creature caged, and then bound back to me faint and, 

 frightened from across the dark tide. 



I feared the river. Oh, but I loved it, too. Its: .. 

 tides were always rising or falling going down to - 

 the Delaware Bay and on to the sea. And in from - - 

 the bay, or out to the bay, with white sails set, the t V? 

 big boats were always moving. And when they had 

 gone, out over the wide water the gulls or the fish 



"" 



hawks would sail, or a great blue heron, with wings < 

 like the fans of an old Dutch mill, would beat pon- 

 derously across. 



I loved the river. I loved the sound of the calk- 

 ing-maul and the adze in the shipyard, and the 

 smell of the chips and tarred oakum ; the chatter of 



