NATURE FOR ITS OWN SAKE 
The slug- 
gish flow. 
Through 
the 
meadous, 
ination of some graphic narrator. All the rivers 
IT have known melt into the sea as smoke fades 
into the air. The current is loosed from its con- 
fining banks, but it still holds headway out upon 
the top of the salt water for some distance, its 
coloring marking its course, until gradually it 
breaks into thin, cloud-like sheets and is finally 
absorbed and neutralized by the vast body of 
the sea. 
If we enter a river from the sea, we may have 
some difficulty at the start in finding the main 
stream. The water is spread wide, and there 
are many false inlets and bayous scattered here 
and there. Even when we are at last in the 
main channel, we find the water discolored and 
moving sluggishly between low, ill-defined 
banks. There is little movement at this final 
stage of river life, little winding In and out of 
nooks and bends. The stream seems to drift 
and drag lazily along, with none of its moun- 
tain brightness. It is moving slowly toward 
annihilation, and it seems almost semi-human 
in a consciousness of it. Farther inland it 
flows a little freer and has more power. The 
salt meadows stretch ont on either side of it, and 
the banks have lifted, perhaps, several feet in 
height. These banks are formed of mud 
