The water curled
all about the bare feet and gurgled delightedly.
``Ah, do stay,'' begged the happy water. ``I
can be such a help to you, for I know how a garden
should be irrigated in the best manner.''
The child laughed, and stamped the water up
to his bare knees. The young wife watched anxiously
while her husband walked up and down the
stream border and examined the fruit trees.
``It is a delightful place,'' he said, ``and the soil
is rich, but I am afraid the water cannot be depended
upon. There are signs of a great drought
within the last two or three years. Look, there
is a clump of birches in the very path of the
stream, but all dead; and the largest limbs of the
fruit trees have died. In this country one must
be able to make sure of the water-supply. I suppose
the people who planted them must have
abandoned the place when the stream went dry.
We must go on farther.''
So they took their goods and the child and went
on farther.
``Ah, well,'' said the stream, ``that is what is to
be expected when has a reputation for neglecting
one's duty. But I wish they had stayed.
That baby and I understood each other.''
It had made up its mind not to run away again,
though it could not be expected to be quite
cheerful after all that had happened. If you go
to the Canyon of Pinon Pines you will notice that
the stream, where it goes brokenly about the
meadow, has a mournful sound.
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