A Marvel. 87

 

mounds! It had already worn itself a channel
in the path, He followed it up, wondering much,
bewildered indeed; and had got to a little turfy
hollow, down the middle of which it came bubbling
and gabbling along, when Willie caught sight of
him, and bounded to meet him with a radiant
countenance and almost inarticulate cries of de-
light,

“Am I awake, Willie? or am I dreaming?”
he asked. :

“Wide awake, papa,” answered Willie.

“Then what zs the meaning of this? You seem
to be in the secret: where does this water come
from? I feel as if I were in a fairy tale.”

“Tsn’t it lovely?” cried Willie. “I/’ll show you
where it comes from. This way. You’ll spoil
your boots there. Look at the rhubarb-bed ; it’s
turned into a swamp.”

“The garden will be ruined,” said his father.

“No, no, papa; we won’t let it come to that.
I’ve been watching it. There’s no soil carried
away yet. Do come and see.”

in mute astonishment, his father followed.

As I have already described it, the ground was
very uneven, with many heights and hollows, —
whence it came that the water took an amazing
number of twists and turns, Willie led his father
as straight as he could, but I don’t know how often
they crossed the little brook before they came to