DEB. 207 stopped the white horse, so that Deb could look across, and up and down, at the shining stream and the shining bank, “ Ther ’s so much of it!” said Deb, softly, thinking of the crack of it that she had seen between two houses for fifteen years. For the crack seemed to her very much like fifteen years in a high chair; and the long, broad-shouldered, sil- vered river seemed to her very much like this world about which she had wondered. They rode to the mills, and Deb trembled to look up at their frowning walls, and to meet their hundred eyes, for the windows stared like eyes ; but some of the girls who wore the little pink bows, and who knew her, came nodding to look down out of them, and she left off trembling to laugh; then in a minute she trembled again, for all at once, without any warning, great Androscoggin pealed the time just over her head, and swallowed her up in sound. She turned pale with delighted terror, and then she flushed with terrified delight. Did it pray? or cry? or laugh? Deb did not know. It seemed to her that, if the white horse would carry her into the sound of that bell, she: need never sit in a high chair at a window again, but ride and ride with the young lady. It seemed to her like forever and forever. They turned away from Androscoggin without speaking, and rode and rode. Daylight dimmed and dusk dropped, and see! all the town blazed with lights. They rode and rode to see the lights. Deb could not speak — there were so many lights.