--the waters shiver
In the woodland's dim domain;
And the whispering of the rain
Tinkles sweet on silver Teign--
Tinkles on the river.

"Through unnumbered sweet recesses--
Sweet recesses soft in lining
Of green moss with ivy twining--
Daffodils, a sparkling train,
Twinkle through the whispering rain,
Twinkle bright by silver Teign,
With a starry shining.

"'Mid unnumbered little leaf-buds--
Little leaf-buds surely bringing
Spring once more--song birds are winging;
And their mellow notes again
Throb across the whispering rain,
Till the banks of silver Teign
Echo with their singing."

Chris, having read, made customary cheerful comment according to her
limitations.

"'T is just like essterday--butivul grawing weather, but 'pears to me
it's plain facts more 'n poetry. Anybody could come to the streamside
and see it all for themselves."

"Many are far away, pent in bricks and mortar, yearning deep to see the
dance of the Spring, and chained out of sight of it. This might bring
one glimpse to them."

"An' so it might, if you sold it for a bit of money. Then it could be
printed out for 'em like t'other was."

"You don't understand--you won't understand--even you."

"I caan't please 'e to-day. I likes the li'l verses ever so. You do make
such things seem butivul to my ear--an' so true as a photograph."

Clem shivered and stretched his hand for the paper. Then, in a moment,
he had torn it into twenty pieces and sent the fragments afloat.

"There! Let her take them to the sea with her. She understands. Maybe
she'll find a cool corner for me too before many days are passed."

Chris began to feel her patience failing.

"What, in God's name, have I done to 'e you should treat me like this?"
she asked, with fire in her eyes.

"Been fool enough to love me," he answered. "But it's never too late for
a woman to change her mind. Leave a sinking ship, or rather a ship that
never got properly launched, but, sticking out of its element, was left
to rot. Why don't you leave me, Chris?"

She stroked his hand, then picked it up and laid her soft cheek against
it.

"Not till the end of the world comes for wan of us, Clem. I'll love 'e
always, and the better and deeper 'cause you 'm so wisht an' unlucky
somehow. But you 'm tu wise to be miserable all your time."

"You ought to make me a man if anything could. I burn away wit