The Music of the JNlarsh 



ground is almost in\'ariably graceful fioAvers, dark- 

 green cattail leaves, and the golden-green, round, 

 aspiring stems of the bulrush. These are genuine 

 })ointers; they are the signboards of earth direct- 

 ing man toward heaven. AA'ater sliallow enough 

 to grow these lilies always sho^\'s the black muck 

 of its bed, and this further emphasizes their ap- 

 ])earance of purity. Worship is their due, and 

 they receive it; for no mortal with senses alive 

 to beauty can see them \vithout having the joy 

 song awakened in its most holy form in the 

 heart. 



Around them flit the sweet-lovers of the marsh 

 with music-breeding wings, and in ])ursuit, equally 

 musical, the dragon fly. At their feet the ^\'ater 

 folk are busy with the affairs of life, and among 

 the lilies and between their slender stems dart the 

 cliattering grebes. 



These small musicians can be shrill of voice 

 and active M'ith their bills in the fright of captiv- 

 ity; but at home in the marsh, filled M'ith domestic The 

 solicitude, thev make their location charmina- A\'ith ^^^"^^ ^ 



• . . ^ Lullaby 



s^eet, tender, low-voiced cheepmgs and chatter as 

 tliey dart around, caring for their young. Grebe 

 babies ^\iU. thrill any normal Inmian heart A\'ith 

 tenderness. For a nest the mothers pull weeds 

 from the marsh bed and stack them on a bit of 

 morass, a grassy tuft, or diift-covered brush. 

 Thev cover their eggs on leaving them, and when 



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