216 Meeting of Two Brooks. 



gent little creatures, utterly different in habits from 

 the rat of the drain. Move but a hand, and in- 

 stantly they fall rather than dive into the water, 

 making a sound like ' thock ' as the}' strike it ; and 

 then they run along the bottom, or seem to do so, 

 as swiftly as on dry land. But in a few minutes out 

 the}' come again, being at the same time extremely 

 timid and as quickly reassured ; so that if you remain 

 perfectly still they will approach within a 3'ard. 



Where the two brooks meet a hollow willow tree 

 hangs over the brown pool — brown with suspended 

 sand and dead leaves slowlj^ rotating under the sur- 

 face where the swirl of the meeting currents, one 

 swift and shallow, the other deeper and stronger, has 

 scooped out a basin. A wa\'iug line upon the surface 

 marks' where the two streams shoulder each other and 

 strive for mastery, and its curve, yielding now to this 

 side now to that, responds to their varying volume 

 and weight. AVhile the under-currents sweep ever 

 slowly round, whirling leaf and dead black soddened 

 twigs over the hollow, the upper streams are forced 

 together unwillingly by the narrowing shores, and 

 throw themselves with a bubbling rush onwards. 

 Through the brown water, from under the stooping 

 willow whose age bows it feebly, there shine now and 

 again silvery streaks deep down as the roach play to 

 and fro. There, too, come the perch ; they are waiting 

 for the insects faUing off the willows and the bushes, 

 and for the food brought down by the streams. 



' Hush ! ' it is the rustle of the reeds, their heads 

 are swaying — a reddish brown now, later on in the 

 year a delicate feathery white. Seen from beneath, 

 their slender tips, as they gracefullj' sweep to and 



