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136 Chit-Chat by Puck.
what lay at its bottom was clearly to be seen. A
little lad came to the banks and threw a ship on
the water and ran by its side, greeting with exulta-
tion every turn which the little skiff made in the
whirlpools, But suddenly the brook made an abrupt
turn, and, as it were, hid itself in the moss. The
little boat was lost, and the lad returned home; but
the brook continued its journey, and felt itself rather
dejected by reason of new and strange surroundings.
Tall trees ranged themselves on each side, and shrubs
with coarse foliage bent over and mirrored them-
selves in the water.
“Where am I? where am 1?” murmured the
brook. ,
“In the glorious woods,” chirruped the birds.
Dreamingly did the brook wend its way amongst
the meadows, kissing the feet of flowers and trees,
which all whispered “thanks!” in return, and should
so have liked to ask it to linger, but they knew
full well it would not do so, for “onward! onward !”
pressed the yearning spirit of the brook.
All at once the view enlarged, the arch of the azure
sky expanded, and by this time the brook had
arrived at a beautiful garden, where it gracefully
meandered among flower beds of gorgeous colours,
breathing a fragrant welcome to it. Down to the
banks came a beautiful maiden with flaxen curls,
and at her approach the brook almost stopped its
course. The water sank into a quiet meditation of
her beauty. No whirlpools, no ripple disturbed its
placid surface. Then the brook gallantly acted the
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