ust keep running. Nothing can stop,
dear: the trees cannot stop growing, they must keep on growing till they
die; and then they cannot stop decaying, till they are all quite gone;
but they come back again. Nor can you stop, Bevis dear."

"I will stop," said Bevis.

"You cannot," said the brook.

"But I will."

"You cannot. You are a very clever boy, Bevis, but you cannot stop; nor
can your papa, nor anybody, you must keep on. Let me see, let me think.
I remember, I have seen you before; it was so many, many thousand years
ago, but I am almost sure it was you. Now I begin to think about it, I
believe I have seen you two or three times, Bevis; but it was before the
hippopotamus used to come and splash about in me. I cannot be quite
certain, for it is a long time to remember your face, dear."

"I do not believe it," said Bevis; "you are babbling, Brook. My mamma
says you babble--it is because you are so old. I am sure I was not born
then."

"Yes, you were, dear; and I daresay you will come back again, when all
the hills are changed and the roads are covered with woods, and the
houses gone. I daresay you will come back again and splash in me, like
the blackbirds."

"Now you are talking nonsense, you silly Brook," said Bevis; "the hills
will never change, and the roads will always be here, and the houses
will not be gone: but why are you sighing, you dear old Brook?"

"I am sighing, my love, because I remember."

"What do you remember?"

"I remember before the hills were like they are now; I remember when I
was a broad deep river; I remember the stars that used to shine in me,
and they are all gone, you cannot see them now, Bevis ('Pooh,' said
Bevis); I remember the stories the lions used to tell me when they came
down to drink; I remember the people dancing on the grass by me, and
sing, singing; they used to sing like me, Bevis, without knowing what it
was they sung, and without any words (not stupid songs, Bevis, like your
people sing now), but I understood them very well. I cannot understand
the songs the folk sing now, the folk that live now have gone away so
far from me."

"What nonsense you say, old Brook; why, we live quite close, and the
waggons go over your bridge every day."

"I remember (the brook took no notice, but went on), I remember them
very well, and they loved me dearly too; they had boats, Bevis, made out
of trees, and they floated about on me."

"I will have a boat," said Bevis, "and flo