Chapter I. Outside Dorlcote Mill

ittleriveris,withitsdarkchangingwavelets!ItseemstomelikealivingcompanionwhileIwanderalongthebank,andlistentoitslow,placidvoice,astothevoiceofonewhoisdeafandloving.Irememberthoselargedippingwillows.Irememberthestonebridge. AndthisisDorlcoteMill.Imuststandaminuteortwohereonthebridgeandlookatit,thoughthecloudsarethreatening,anditisfaronintheafternoon.EveninthisleaflesstimeofdepartingFebruaryitispleasanttolookat,—perhapsthechill,dampseasonaddsacharmtothetrimlykept,comfortabledwelling-house,asoldastheelmsandchestnutsthatshelteritfromthenorthernblast.Thestreamisbrimfulnow,andlieshighinthislittlewithyplantation,andhalfdrownsthegrassyfringeofthecroftinfrontofthehouse.AsIlookatthefullstream,thevividgrass,thedelicatebright-greenpowdersofteningtheoutlineofthegreattrunksandbranchesthatgleamfromunderthebarepurpleboughs,Iaminlovewithmoistness,andenvythewhiteducksthataredippingtheirheadsfarintothewaterhereamongthewithes,unmindfuloftheawkwardappearancetheymakeinthedrierworldabove. Ther