MA Y MUSES 79 



Let us descend to the rocky bed of the stream, 

 and clamber over the green boulders, up the 

 cataracts, to little wells and shallows where the 

 black fly skims each level surface as if in time 

 with the ceaseless music of the water ; and be- 

 tween steep slopes where the field mice have a 

 home ; while we crush underfoot the wreckage of 

 dead branches that a storm has felted amongst 

 the stones. 



Higher up the stream, where sunshine burns the 

 banks, the blooms are closer clustered. Here the 

 sedge flaunts its tassels, and the brooklime spreads 

 a green carpet. And here may be seen the effect 

 of the continued action of the current, for masses 

 of mould have fallen into the hollows and been 

 washed away. Here dense tendrils of clematis 

 and bryony hide the water ; but we still hear its 

 voice as it were that of hope crying in darkness 

 that light and joy are coming. 



Animal life may be abundant here. Perhaps a 

 chiff-chaff (a morsel of soft yellow and green 

 plumage) will quit her nest in the herbage to see 

 who is the disturber. She will pretend to be 

 feeding, while in fact she is watching us or listen- 



