BROOK MAGIC 



fern world, and the magic which distills 

 from their fern seed is no doubt less 

 potent than that from greater ferns, but 

 added to the witch-hazel glamour it 

 makes brook magic which will initiate 

 you into many mysteries of the pasture 

 world if you are but patient. Sitting 

 there with the tiny brown spores of the 

 rock fern dripping upon your shoulders 

 with infinitesimal rattle, you seem to see 

 more clearly the glen life and to know 

 the meaning of many sounds hitherto 

 only half understood. 



Always there is the sleepy song which 

 the brook sings to itself in summer, 

 a song to which the warble of the vireo 

 in the overhead leafage adds but a 

 dreamy staccato. But if you listen 

 through this you shall presently hear 

 the water goblins grumbling to them- 

 selves in their abodes under flat stones. 

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