42 The Autocrat of the Eddy. 



lived under it for a decade, but I have no 

 dates for the boulder and the stream. 



When the winter storm fills the 

 branches with snow and cold winds moan 

 as they roam through the forest, the eddy 

 is covered with ice, but down at the edge 

 of the boulder the big trout tucks the dark 

 water snugly about him, slowly waves his 

 broad tail back and forth, passes an oc- 

 casional glassful of water through his gills, 

 and cares nothing for the storm and the 

 cold, but in quiet contemplation looks for- 

 ward with pleasure to the sins of a new 

 season. If the little white-footed mouse 

 hops trembling across the ice, the trout is 

 sorry he cannot take her down into his 

 comfortable home, but there is a coldness 

 between the trout and the mouse that he 

 loves, and little does the mouse suspect 

 that the bump which she felt on the ice 

 under her feet was made by the nose of 

 one that would fain approach nearer. 



When the birds come back in the spring 

 and the blue-bird, nestling in the sunny 

 top of the hemlock, softly carols a love 

 song about Bermuda, the black and white 



