The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII,
No. 355, October 16, 1886
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Title: The Girl's Own Paper, Vol. VIII, No. 355, October 16, 1886
Author: Various
Editor: Charles Peters Flora Klickmann
Release Date: May 18, 2006 [EBook #18414]
Language: English
Character set encoding: ISO-8859-1
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THE GIRL'S OWN PAPER
VOL. VIII.--NO. 355.
OCTOBER 16, 1886.
PRICE ONE PENNY.
THE BROOK AND ITS BANKS.
BY THE REV. J. G. WOOD, M.A., Author of "The Handy Natural
History."
"Whyles owre a linn the burnie plays, As through the glen it dimpl't;
Whyles round a rocky scaur it strays; Whyles in a weil it dimpl't;
Whyles glittered to the nightly rays, Wi' bickering, dancing dazzle;
Whyles cookit underneath the braes Below the spreading hazel."
Burns: "Halloween."
[Illustration: THE BROOK AND ITS BANKS.]
CHAPTER I.
The many aspects of a brook--The eye sees only that which it is capable
of seeing--Individuality of brooks and their banks--The rippling
"burnie" of the hills--The gently-flowing brooks of low-lying
districts--Individualities even of such brooks--The fresh-water brooks
of Oxford and the tidal brooks of the Kentish marshes--The swarming
life in which they abound--An afternoon's walk--Ditches versus hedges
and walls--A brook in Cannock Chase--Its sudden changes of
aspect--The brooks of the Wiltshire Downs and of Derbyshire.
A brook has many points of view.
In the first place, scarcely any two spectators see it in the same light.
To the rustic it is seldom more than a convenient water-tank, or, at
most, as affording some sport to boys in fishing. To its picturesque
beauties his eyes are blind, and to him the brook is, like Peter Bell's
primrose, a brook and nothing more.
Then there are some who only view a brook as affording variety to the
pursuit of the fox, and who pride themselves on their knowledge of the
spots at which it can be most successfully leaped.
Others, again, who are of a geographical turn of mind, can only see in a
brook a necessary portion of the water-shed of the district.
To children it is for a time dear as a playground, possessing the
inestimable advantage of enabling them to fall into it and wet their
clothes from head to foot.
Then there are some who are keenly alive to its changing beauties, and
are gifted with artistic spirit and power of appreciation, even if they
should not have been able to cultivate the technical skill which would
enable them to transfer to paper or canvas the scene which pleased
them. Yet they can only see the surface, and take little, if any, heed of
the wealth of animated life with which the brook and its banks are
peopled, or of the sounds with which the air is filled.
Happy are those in whom are fortunately combined the appreciation of
art and the gift (for it is a gift as much as an eye for art or an ear for
music) of observing animal life. To them the brook is all that it is to
others, and much besides. To them the tiniest brook is a perpetual joy,
and of such a nature I hope are those who read these pages.
Not only does a brook assume different aspects, according to the
individuality of the spectator, but every brook has its individuality, and
so have its banks.
Often the brook "plays many parts," as in Burns' delightful stanza,
which seems to have rippled from the poet's brain as spontaneously as
its subject.
Sometimes, however, as near Oxford, it flows silently onwards with
scarcely a dimple on its unruffled surface. Over its still waters the gnats
rise and fall in their ceaseless dance. The swift-winged dragon-flies,
blue, green, and red, swoop upon them like so many falcons on their
prey; or, in the earlier year, the mayflies flutter above the stream,
leaving their shed skins, like ghostly images of themselves, sticking on
every tree trunk near the brook.
On the surface of the brook are seen the shadow-like water-gnats,
drifting with apparent aimlessness over the surface, but having in view
a definite and deadly purpose, as many a half drowned insect will find
to its cost.
Under the shade of the willows that overhang its banks the whirligig
beetles will gather, sociably circling round and round in their mazy
dance, bumping against each other
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