the sunlight out; and starred a thousand jewels on the
mill-dam's brow; and sparkled a myriad icicles from the rumbling wheels.
Far away into the country it spread a white mantle, and froze into the
very heart of all the Ponds and Creeks above. And then the sun came out
and shone so brightly; and then the clouds over-covered it, and the rain
came pattering down as of the olden time, when first its peltings stung
the meadow Brook and tempted her to roam. And higher swelled the Brooks
behind their mill-dam prison, and sent more of their life-blood to
refresh the poisoned Pond below.

"I am getting stronger; I am very strong to-day, sister Brook," said the
ambitious one. "I think that with our efforts now united, we can push
this mill-dam over and escape."

"Wait for my darling Mountain-Torrent. I hear him on his way; he follows
after us. And see down yonder hill-side how he tears along; and hark!
how gladly, as he sees us from his rocky bed, he roars a song of
courage."

And the sister Brooks triumphed together as they saw the keepers of the
smoking monster cease their clanging din, and rush for timbers to uphold
the dam; and fly about with tools that were but baby toys for what was
coming now.

"Bring trees; bring stones; bring every thing," cried out the Brooks,
as they saw the Mountain-Torrent come rushing nearer on, sweeping away
the fences, and ploughing out a path more fitting for his travels than
the brookside one he kept in view.

"Welcome, my fair ones," roared he, as with heavy timbers in his maw he
caught the Brooks again in strong embrace, and dashing at the smoking
monster, knocked him down at once. Down came the mill-dam with an
earthquake noise; the din upon the air was not of clanging tools and
hammer stroke; the wheels were racking and rumbling, not beneath brick
walls, but over the rocks and ruined factories below; while the pale and
shadowy faces looked no longer wistfully on the landscape, but madly
rushed about to spread the tale of ruin through the land.

The same old thing! The same old journey over the country. The same old
havoc as they went. But the strength of a thousand Brooks seemed given
to the Mountain-Torrent as, looking miles away, he saw a wide expanse of
water fringed with brown and bluish lines. "It is the Ocean, fair ones,"
cried he; "when your feeble sights shall see it, bless my power, for at
length we reach a home no art of man can invade to fetter us or bind us
down. Ten mi