XII 



ONE of the subtler charms of my pond, a 

 thing felt rather than seen, was a certain air 

 of secrecy which seldom left it. In every wilder- 

 ness lake lurks a mystery of some kind, which you 

 cannot hope to penetrate, a sense of measureless 

 years, of primal far-off things, of uncouth creatures 

 dead and gone that haunted its banks before the 

 infancy of man; but on this little pond, with its 

 sunny waters and open shore, the mystery was 

 always pleasant, and at times provoking, as if it 

 might be the place where an end of the rainbow 

 rested. 



Though small enough to give one a sense of 

 possession (one can never feel that he owns a big 



[256] 



