B? a Mooblanb Spring 



IliSaxo? 14 lepYji; hXi^r^ Xi^ocg axpov atotov. 



THE obsolete word '* sourd " has always 

 tempted me, as most forbidden things 

 have, through some not exactly definable 

 fascination arising out of mere vagueness 

 and remoteness. It comes to my tongue's 

 end and to my pen's nib whenever I speak 

 or write about a spring. It is a cool word, 

 a bubble of refreshing significance rising 

 through my brain, as you have seen the 

 crystal globes quiver up, clear, chill, sweet, 

 from the vague depth of a well-head. 



Soberly speaking, why shall one be 

 bound by the dictionary at all hazards? 

 Of course there must be an academic tra- 

 dition in literature, a supreme source, to 

 which we return seasonably for the con- 

 ventional bath; but a word is not to be 

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