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.

[Illustration]

And now the stream suddenly spreads out widely. It is a little lake!
No, it is only a mill-pond.

Let us walk around and come out in front of the mill.

How the stream has diminished again!

[Illustration]

As it comes out of the mill-race and joins itself to that portion
which flows over the dam, it is a considerable creek, to be sure, but
it looks very small compared to the mill-pond. But what it wants in
size it makes up in speed, like some little Morgan horses you may have
seen, and it goes rushing along quite rapidly again. Here, now, is a
splendid chance to catch a chub.