past, occasionally striking against the banks with a crash. How like Spring it seemed! The sun, now nearing the meridian beat down extraordinarily warm, and yet the day was not dead like some warm days at this time of year; a warm fresh breeze was blowing and the sky was a deep spotless blue. Heat waves were dancing on the side of the bridge, which seemed strangely to accord with the dancing reflection of the water on the top of the roof. A delicate blue haze lurked in the woods and hills that extended everywhere.    Once a small insect floated lazily past, lured forth by the warm sun. I always take a great deal of interest in the first insect, which later I do not even notice. From the hill behind the Bottom Road came the rasping call of a guinea-hen, which always has a springy sound to me. A distant freight train whistled, and then a great yearning to do something came over me  - what to do I did not know, but I believe at the slightest provocation I would have jumped in the creek, whose steady onward flow, and sparkling had a fascination for me. A Songsparrow began to sing somewhere, and its sweet tone awakened me from the stupur I had fallen into. I got up and left the bridge. At each end of the bridge the great stone