But if these same boys and girls were putting up a cannon to go off at the hour when school commenced, they would get such a little one that it wouldn’t frighten a mouse.

WATERS, DEEP AND SHALLOW.

With such a vast subject before us as the waters of our beautiful world, we must be systematic.  So we will at first confine ourselves to the observation of pleasant waters.

[Illustration]

Let us begin at the beginning.

This pretty little spring, with its cool water running day and night into the old barrel, and then gurgling over the staves, flowing away among the grass and flowers, is but a trifling thing perhaps, and might be passed with but little notice by people who have always lived in cities.  But country-folks know how to value a cool, unfailing spring.  In the hot days of summer the thirsty and tired farmer would rather see that spring than an ice-cream saloon.  Yes, even if he has nothing to drink from but a gourd, which may be lying there among the stones.  He may have a tin-cup with him,—­and how shocking! he may drink out of his hands!  But, let him use what he may, he certainly gets a most delicious drink.

I once knew a little girl who said she could not bear spring-water; she did not think it was clean, coming out of the ground in that way.  I asked her if she liked well-water; but she thought that was worse yet, especially when it was hauled up in old buckets.  River-water she would not even consider, for that was too much exposed to all sorts of dirty things to be fit to drink.  I then wished to know what kind of water she did like, and she answered, readily enough, “hydrant-water.”  I don’t know where she imagined hydrant-water came from, but she may have thought it was manufactured, by some clean process, out at the water-works.

But let us follow this little stream which trickles from the barrel.  We cannot walk by its banks all the time, for it winds so much and runs through places where the walking is very bad; but let us go across the fields and walk a mile or two into the woods, and we will meet with it again.  Here it is!

What a fine, tumbling stream it has grown to be now!  It is even big enough to have a bridge over it.  It does not always rush so noisily among the rocks; but this is early summer; there has been plenty of rain, and the brook is full and strong.  Now, then, if this is a trout country, we ought to have our hooks and lines with us.  Among the eddies of this stream we might find many a nice trout, and if we were only successful enough to catch some of them after we had found them, we would be sure of a reward for our walk, even if the beauty of the scene did not repay us.

But let us go on.  This stream does not stop here.

After we have walked a mile or so more, we find that our noisy friend has quieted down very much indeed.  It is a little wider, and it may be it is a little deeper, but it flows along very placidly between its low banks.  It is doubtful if we should find any trout in it now, but there may be cat-fish and perch, and some sun-fish and eels.