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And now the stream suddenly spreads out widely.  It is a little lake! 
No, it is only a mill-pond.

Let us walk around and come out in front of the mill.

How the stream has diminished again!

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As it comes out of the mill-race and joins itself to that portion which flows over the dam, it is a considerable creek, to be sure, but it looks very small compared to the mill-pond.  But what it wants in size it makes up in speed, like some little Morgan horses you may have seen, and it goes rushing along quite rapidly again.  Here, now, is a splendid chance to catch a chub.

If we had some little minnows for bait, and could stand on the bank there to the left, and throw our lines down into the race, we ought to be able to hook a chub, if there are any there, and I think it is very likely that there are.  A chub, if he is a good-sized fellow, is a fish worth catching, even for people who have been fishing for trout.  One big chub will make a meal for a small family.

But let us follow the creek and see what new developments we shall discover.  To be sure, you may say that following up a stream from its very source involves a great deal of walking; but I can answer with certainty that a great deal of walking is a very easy thing—­in books!

So on we go, and it is not long before we find that our watery friend has ceased to be a creek, and is quite worthy of being called a fine young river.  But still it is scarcely fit yet for navigation.  There are rocks in the very middle of the stream, and every now and then we come to a waterfall.  But how beautiful some of those cascades are!

What a delightful thing it would be, on a warm summer evening, to bathe in that deliciously cool water.  It is deep enough for a good swim, and, if any of us want a shower-bath, it would be a splendid thing to sit on the rocks and let the spray from the fall dash over us!  And there are fish here, I am sure.  It is possible that, if we were to sit quietly on the bank and fish, we might soon get a string of very nice perch, and there is no knowing what else.  This stream is now just about big enough and little enough to make the character of its fish doubtful.  I have known pike—­fellows two feet long—­caught in such streams as this; and then again, in other small rivers, very much like it, you can catch nothing but cat-fish, roach, and eels.

If we were to follow up our river, we would soon find that it grew larger and larger, until row-boats and sloops, and then schooners and perhaps large ships, sailed upon its surface.  And at last we might follow it down to its mouth, and, if it happened to flow into the sea, we would probably behold a grand scene.  Some rivers widen so greatly near their mouths that it is difficult to believe that they are rivers at all.

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On the next page we see a river which, at its junction with the ocean, seems almost like a little sea itself.