tain brook has its peculiarities, and is just as likely to be vicious as man or beast. Let me inform you. Not long since I turned on my persecutors. I ceased my song and became as cruel and iron-hearted as it is possible for a citizen of the world to be. I showed them that they could not have things all their own way and glorify themselves wholly unmolested! I sought revenge for past wrongs and indignities. I flooded them from mountain to lake. I tore their mills into pieces, carried away their dams, upset their houses and barns, destroyed their bridges, and inundated their villages. I overwhelmed them, overflowed them, tormented and harrassed them. I forced them to fly from their homes to the high land of the wilderness, where hunger and want overtook them. I made their taxes unbearable, and I sent some of the best of them as well as the worst to early graves! Can you now sing a song of the sweet babbling brook that gently murmurs in the leafy dell! I fancy not. I opine that you think me a tyrant, and I acknowledge that I am just as potent for good or evil as some of those who think themselves much wiser and of much more importance in the world.
"But I will not be unlike other created things. I will say—old age and drought having come upon me—that I am sincerely penitent for past misdemeanors, and if I were to run my course over again I would be a model of uncomplaining virtue. Having arrived at the end of the voyage I look back on my crooked career and am lead to a contemplative mood—to entertain many misgivings. I am—before I go hence into that broad expanse where my identity may possibly be lost—ready and anxious to confess my evil conduct, and leave my ill-gotten gains to my kindred and successors. Let you and I confess together. It shall be after the fashion of the times, and in the negative. We will confess every body's sins but our own. To begin: We are not so bad as our neighbors. They cheated in weight and measure, sold adulterated goods for the pure article, and shoddy for all-wool. We never did any thing half so bad as that. Again: We are not hypocrites, like some others we could mention. In all matters between party and party we have been governed and guided by a sole purpose to benefit those to whom the equity of the cause belonged. Of course we have. But some folk whom we could mention have not. Once more: We confess—and with a good deal of pride—that we were never known to hide behind a mask. No body shall accuse us of that. We have always been as open and frank as the day, and have worn our hearts upon our sleeves for daws to peck at. Really we are pretty near perfection, as compared with the rest of the world. But—well, this confession should come to an abrupt end. Nothing good can come of it. We will simply say that if old Deacon Knowitall is all right, we are. and that is good enough. There, that is a model confession, isn't it?"
There was another long pause, during which I confess I was puzzled by the situation, and unable to explain the whys and wherefores. I only knew I was in my normal condition and alone. I was about to scan the expanse of water beyond me in anticipation of the return of the boat containing the companion of my rambles, when the brook broke the silence:
"Pilgrim traveler! Your friend will not return this hour, therefore let me continue to murmur in your ear. Let me say that in running my allotted course I have become familiar with much that is historic and romantic. I have witnessed many surprising changes in history and families, and were I so disposed could relate many pleasing and instructive anecdotes. Generations have come and gone. They have toiled their brief day, struggled with adversity, found happi-
