IX 



A SEINE MAKER 



I HERE is a certain stream I know 

 that begins as a brook, traversing 

 a high meadow sweet with clover 

 and white with daisies. It then 

 forsakes sunny heights and glides 

 down a pine-covered hill, where 

 great roots interlace and hold 

 firm its banks; thence it tumbles down a slope beset 

 with birch and sumac, and finally, imder some furry 

 young hemlocks that protect it from an " attacking 

 army of rainbows," it takes a wild plunge to wider 

 levels below. 



This brook, fed from living springs, is the theatre of 

 myriad life, and it was 



" Down the golden-braided centre of its current swift and strong," 

 that I first saw a quaint little fisherman that spreads 

 his nets for fry too small for our coarse eyes to see, 

 but which, nevertheless, .prove all-sufficient for his 

 needs. Well is he named Hydropsyche, " the water- 

 sprite." 



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