News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1914-04-08
BY FIRESIDE AND WAYSIDE
Webb Brook
John Elliot Bowman

lands that border upon the stream.
Christopher Webb came hther from
Brantree when northern Middlesex was
a wilderness, dwelt near the woodland
Stream for two or three years; then re-
turned to the older settlement, and sold
his Shawshin lands. Yet the transient
resident has left his name while the men
| who cleared these fields and built the
stone walls and the roads that intersect
and separate them are forgotten. The
stream is Webb Brook from source to
mouth, the Webb pasture lies midway
along its course, and the main thorough
fare that crosses it is known as Webb
Brook Road.
Through half its length il runs through
cleared field, plainly visible from the
slde-hil farms in the neighDorhood.
! Photographs taken with the changing
seasons would supply illustrations for the
lines in Hiawatha:
1.-THE pleasant water courses,
You could trace them thrOuhg the valley
| BY the rushing in the Springtime,
| By the alders in the summer,
| By the white fog in the autumn,
| BY tn black line in the winter"
| At the farthest limit of the open fields
in view from Wyman Road the stream
passes the ruins OF the "stock farm" build
ings burned nearly forty years ago; and
dribbles through the remains of ola m
which once retained its waters for the
convenience of the farmer. While its sug-
gestiVeness in any trace of the handiwOrk
of man upon nature there is perhaps
something peculiarly characteristic about
deserted waterworks. A mill'pond well
nigh dry, grass-grown with slender
stream trickling through; a broken race.
way with its planks falling in shreds,
while the stream ouce forced to pass be-
tween its sides, now slips by at will these
are associated with mans temporary sue
cess in bending nature to his wish. The
water flowing unhampered by his plans
seems conscious of the transient Gharac er
of his conquest. Yet his failure in all
these things is only apparent. He falls
back at single poinCs to gain all along the
line. A thousand brooks may laugh as
they will around disused race-ways. the
great reservoirs that supply cities, hold
valley filled with water at mans behest.
1t is possible that pessimistic views con-
corning the moral and spiritual advance
ment of mankind might be mod fled by a
fuller realization of the fact of which
these things are parable.
Escaping from the broken gate the
brook enters the only bit of woodland left
along its course, through which it flows
for mile on its way to Shawshin. This
narrow strip of shade alone remains of
the forests and swamps that once hid its
banks from the sunlight. 1t is as though
some Robinson Crusoe, seeing and I'M
willing to relinquIsh the charms of his
solitude. had been forced to live his life
In the open, among men, yet should be |
able 10 spend his closing years III medi |
tation dear to him.
The brook enters the woods silently |
but gladly; clearer lie the human life Of |
which it has reminded us, for having |
flowed through open fields. 1t bears no !
dark faint of fallen hemlock logs, or of |
forest leaves STEPPED year after year in |
the pools along its way. Many of its i'm
purities which it you'd otherwise bear
in it's current have been filtered away in
the beds OF quartz and feldspar which the
frosts and rains of two centuries have
placed along its course.
1t bears into the forest memories of
the sdnlighted pastures along Webb
Brook Road. Here and there in the tor
Est depths some eddy retains fragment
If the golden-rod or meadow grass
borne from upstream, or is bright with
he crimson of bunch of barberries, fall
en- from the pasture shrubs. Happy is
he human anchorite of whom the same
S true.
1t is unnecessary to invade the woods;
o disturb the brook in its meditations.
leave the task of overcoming the thickets
o the first chance angler who thinks
You will carry away as much as be. L.
S easier to resume acquaintance with the
tream at the point where its waters
inter the Shawshin. The canoe will take
7ou from the bridge on the Boston Road,
long serpentine path perhaps a mile;
t is hard to estimate distances where
here are 50 many loops of water, OK bows
hat almost form islands; then the voice
# the brook is heard as it joins the river.
t is a tribe darker for its woodland So
ourn; its voice is deep and musical.
Two centuries and half ago the brook |
vas holding practically the same course.
The clearing of It's sides has been gradual,
nut perhaps for half that period it has
'een as open to the sunlight as it is to-
ay. In all that time it has perhaps
urned no machinery larger than boys Z
yet that is no unimpOrtant
ask for Herewith are sometimes con.
ected unseen shafts and shuttles that
7eave rich tapestry for arras hangings Of
astles in Spain; or even produce flying
arpet. You may drain all Niagara into