The Poetry of Shelter. 1 1 7 



but, cunning as he is, he never ventures upon a 

 more definite statement. Perhaps ten thousand 

 years ago, perhaps ten times ten thousand. 

 The only satisfaction is that we have abundant 

 room for private speculation. It is a genuine 

 pleasure to have a few millenniums to squander 

 and yet keep within bounds. Lord Kelvin tells 

 us the age of the earth may be so much or so 

 much ; only a trifle of thirteen millions of years 

 between the extremes ! Such estimates are not 

 satisfactory. If Crosswicks Creek before me is 

 only ten thousand years old, it is a mere child 

 yet, to be sure, but we can learn a good deal 

 from children. This fluviatile youngster has 

 had several millions of high and low tides, and 

 still can smile serenely whether the day is clear 

 or cloudy. Its ups and downs do not disturb 

 its temper, and this is a fact worth knowing. 

 Do men laugh when it is low tide with them ? 

 Are they never fools at high tide ? 



As I watched and waited, I thought of a 

 dead creek I had lately visited, a creek that 

 had flowed where now is a high, dry, upland 

 field. Running waters are tireless scribes, re- 

 cording their autobiography up to their last 



