“It cannot, because it is so clear. We couldn’t see the trout if it was a glacier stream.”
“Humph, no, I s’pose not. Where does it come from then?”
“Oh, from scores of rills away perhaps in the mountains. How beautifully clear the water is!—you can see every stone at the bottom—and, look, it’s like a network of gold on the sand.”
“What makes that?” said Esau.
“The ripple of the water as it runs. How beautiful it all is!”
“Yes; I should like to build mother a cottage up there when she comes.”
“That’s what you always say. Why don’t you set to work and build one ready when she does come?”
“If you talk like that I will,” said Esau, irritably. “Of course I always say so—shame if I didn’t.”
“Well then, select your place and let’s begin.”
“Shan’t! not for you to make fun of me,” cried Esau, throwing himself down. “Now then, if you want to quarrel again, go it. I shan’t grumble.”