Raggylug 



There is magic in running water. Who does 

 not know it and feel it? The railroad builder 

 fearlessly throws his bank across the wide bog or 

 lake, or the sea itself, but the tiniest rill of run- 

 ning water he treats with great respect, studies 

 its wish and its way and gives it all it seems to 

 ask. The thirst-parched traveller in the poi- 

 sonous alkali deserts holds back in deadly fear 

 from the sedgy ponds till he finds one down 

 whose centre is a thin, clear line, and a faint 

 flow, the sign of running, living water, and joy- 

 fully he drinks. 



There is magic in running water, no evil 

 spell can cross it. Tarn O'Shanter proved its 

 potency in time of sorest need. The wild-wood 

 creature with its deadly foe following tireless on 

 the trail scent, realizes its nearing doom and 

 feels an awful spell. Its strength is spent, its 

 every trick is tried in vain till the good Angel 

 leads it to the water, the running, living water, 

 and dashing in it follows the cooling stream, 

 and then with force renewed takes to the woods 

 again. 



116 



