A Bit of River 71 



ever}' feature of this absurdly small scene, we should 

 behold something very like the great forest-bordered, 

 rock-ribbed pool so many miles away. Then our 

 gallon or so of amber water would be a darkly deep 

 expanse, our insignificant green stuff stately trees, 

 our wee ledges and marble boulders picturesque 

 shelves and time-worn masses, our whimpering 

 over-trickle a roaring cascade, with tumults of shift- 

 ing spume and streamers of glittering bubbles. The 

 small pool and the great have been formed by the 

 same means and in the same way. Could we 

 so place ourselves so as to be able to scrutinize 

 the larger pool through a powerful glass, re- 

 versed, the picture so reduced would be this first 

 pool where the baby river steals forth to brave the 

 sun. 



From this pool our river's erratic course is plainly 

 defined. First, a thin line of green amid sun-browned 

 slopes ; lower down, twin green lines, farther and 

 farther apart, till they reveal flashes of water be- 

 tween ; a bulrush here, a willow there, with docks 

 and lush growths thick below, till a foot-broad stream 

 curves into the kindly shadow of the woods. Hidden 

 springs have feebly aided our river across the sunny 

 open, and at the edge of the woods a sturdier ally 

 joins the onward march. From under the mossy 

 roots of a giant maple rises a purl of liquid melody, 

 and immediately below our river welcomes his first 

 important tributary. At their confluence is a quite 

 imposing pool, fully as broad as a foot-bath and at 

 least six inches deep. 



The old water-spider finds her trip from shore to 

 shore to be something of a journey, and she narrowly 



