f his song, said:
"Bevis, dear; sit down in the shadow of the willow, for it is very hot
to-day, and the reapers are at work; sit down under the willow and I
will tell you as much as I can remember."

"But the reed said you could not remember anything," said Bevis,
leaning back against the willow.

"The reed did not tell you the truth, dear; indeed, he does not know
all; the fact is, the reeds are so fond of talking that I scarcely
ever answer them now or they would keep on all day long, and I should
never hear the sound of my own voice, which I like best. So I do not
encourage them, and that is why the reeds think I do not recollect."

"And what is that you sing about?" said Bevis impatiently.

"My darling," said the brook, "I do not know myself always what I am
singing about. I am so happy I sing, sing, and never think about what
it means; it does not matter what you mean as long as you sing.
Sometimes I sing about the sun, who loves me dearly, and tries all day
to get at me through the leaves and the green flags that hide me; he
sparkles on me everywhere he can, and does not like me to be in the
shadow. Sometimes I sing to the wind, who loves me next most dearly,
and will come to me everywhere in places where the sun cannot get. He
plays with me whenever he can, and strokes me softly and tells me the
things he has heard in the woods and on the hills, and sends down the
leaves to float along; for he knows I like something to carry. Fling
me in some leaves, Bevis, dear.

"Sometimes I sing to the earth and the grass; they are fond of me,
too, and listen the best of all. I sing loudest at night to the stars;
for they are so far away they would not otherwise hear me."

"But what do you say?" said Bevis; but the brook was too occupied now
to heed him and went on.

"Sometimes I sing to the trees; they, too, are fond of me and come as
near as they can; they would all come down close to me if they could.
They love me like the rest, because I am so happy and never cease my
chanting. If I am broken to pieces against a stone, I do not mind in
the least; I laugh just the same and even louder. When I come over the
hatch, I dash myself to fragments; and sometimes a rainbow comes and
stays a little while with me. The trees drink me, and the grass drinks
me; the birds come down and drink me; they splash me and are happy.
The fishes swim about, and some of them hide in deep corners. Round
the bend I go; and the osiers say they