We had a merry playmate in a little brook that ran down through the
sunny meadows! It slipped and slid over little mossy pebbles and called
to us, “Follow, follow, follow!” in the sweetest little voice in the
world!
Sometimes, I would kneel down on the little low bank, and bend my head
down close, and ask, “Where are you going, little brook?”
It would splash a cool drop of spray in my face, and run on calling,
“Follow, follow, follow!” just as before.
Wild strawberries grew red and sweet down in the tall grass, and great
purple violets, and tall buttercups nid-nodding in the wind.
Very often Myra and I would take off our shoes and stockings, and wade.
The roguish little brook would tickle my small toes, and try and trip me
up on one of its little mossy stones. Once I did slip and sat right down
in the water with a great splash! And the little brook took all the
starch out of my clothes, and ran off with it in a twinkling.
Now and then, I would fasten a bent pin to a string and tie the string
to the end of a stick and fish for the tiny minnows and tadpoles. But,
somehow, I never caught one of the little darting things. I used to
believe the brook whispered them to keep away from that little shining
hook.
Sometimes, I would take a big white chip and load it with pebbles or
violets and send it down stream. The sly little brook would slip my boat
over one of its tiny waterfalls just as quick as it could! If my little
boat was loaded with pebbles, down would go my heavy cargo to the
bottom! But if it were loaded with violets, then a fleet of fairy purple
canoes would float on and on, and away out of sight.
A great green frog with big, staring eyes watched from the side of the
brook. Now and then, he would say, “Ker-chug!” in a deep voice. I used
to ask him in good faith, what “ker-chug!” meant. But he did not tell,
and to this day I have not found out what “ker-chug” means.
_Percia V. White._
[Illustration: “WILD STRAWBERRIES GREW RED AND SWEET DOWN IN THE TALL
GRASS.”]
“HOW MAMA USED TO PLAY.”