Followers of Saint Francis 



lackluster eye that blinked at her inquiringly. 

 Or under the dark arch of the bridge, she might 

 catch him lying coolly at his ease, his great body 

 stayed against the tide by just the laziest waving 

 of fringed claws. So at least he oftenest finds 

 it pleasant to lie still and watch the flickering 

 shadows of the willow. That twice or thrice a 

 season in the past six years she has so found him 

 or has heard his flop and squelching footfall in 

 the night, is his title to domain and hers to inti- 

 mate possession. 



Only since my mother finds it good to watch 

 her brethren dwell in vmity, she makes him share 

 his (juarters. They are also the muskrat's who 

 takes them for his swims, emerging from the 

 dankness of his cell in the stone wall for his due 

 share of exercise and pastime. A more quiet 

 purpose, too, they serve when they grow dim in 

 the half-light. For here at dusk night herons 

 come like monks austerely hooded in chill gray, 

 the embodiments of a pale spiritual melancholy. 

 Slowly they steal down the corridors of sedge 

 and once they reach the pool stand silent at 

 [267] 



