WRIT IN WATER 



a river with all the usual lure of an on-rush- 

 ing stream, but Age had also lent it her 

 poetic mantle of mystery. One feels the 

 thought of the writer drifting backward on 

 the tide of memory, and conjuring up the 

 scenery on its banks and the various tradi- 

 tions that may have been told of "Kishon, 

 that ancient river, the river Kishon." 



As the river Kishon flowed not only 

 through the land which it watered, but also 

 with vivid, throbbing associations through 

 the memory of the writer, so every brook 

 and river in the habitable regions of the 

 globe keeps a double course, one within its 

 own banks and another, more perennial, 

 in the cherished memories of men. For to 

 all the water-writ melodies of nature man 

 has added the overtones of his own associa- 

 tions, glad, sad, and tender, national or per- 

 sonal, or both. To the German, the Rhine 

 and the Danube would still be very grandly 

 rushing rivers and flow with undiminished 

 majesty through his memory and literature, 

 though their material waters had long gone 

 dry. So would the ''yellow Tiber" lave its 



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