This eBook was produced by David Widger  widgercecometnet                        TWICE TOLD TALES                    THE VISION OF THE FOUNTAIN                      By Nathaniel HawthorneAt fifteen I became a resident in a country village more than a hundredmiles from home  The morning after my arrivala September morning butwarm and bright as any in JulyI rambled into a wood of oaks with a fewwalnuttrees intermixed forming the closest shade above my head  Theground was rocky uneven overgrown with bushes and clumps of youngsaplings and traversed only by cattlepaths  The track which I chancedto follow led me to a crystal spring with a border of grass as freshlygreen as on May morning and overshadowed by the limb of a great oakOne solitary sunbeam found its way down and played like a goldfish inthe waterFrom my childhood I have loved to gaze into a spring  The water filleda circular basin small but deep and set round with stones some ofwhich were covered with slimy moss the others naked and of variegatedhue reddish white and brown  The bottom was covered with coarse sandwhich sparkled in the lonely sunbeam and seemed to illuminate the springwith an unborrowed light  In one spot the gush of the water violentlyagitated the sand but without obscuring the fountain or breaking theglassiness of its surface  It appeared as if some living creature wereabout to emergethe Naiad of the spring perhapsin the shape of abeautiful young woman with a gown of filmy watermoss a belt ofrainbowdrops and a cold pure passionless countenance  How would thebeholder shiver pleasantly yet fearfully to see her sitting on one ofthe stones paddling her white feet in the ripples and throwing upwater to sparkle in the sun  Wherever she laid her hands on grass andflowers they would immediately be moist as with morning dew  Thenwould she set about her labors like a careful housewife to clear thefountain of withered leaves and bits of slimy wood and old acorns fromthe oaks above and grains of corn left by cattle in drinking till thebright sand in the bright water were like a treasury of diamonds  Butshould the intruder approach too near he would find only the drops of asummer shower glistening about the spot where he had seen herReclining on the border of grass where the dewy goddess should havebeen I bent forward and a pair of eyes met mine within the waterymirror  They were the reflection of my own  I looked again and loanother face deeper in the fountain than my own image more distinct inall the features yet faint as thought  The vision had the aspect of afair young girl with locks of paly gold  A mirthful expression laughedin the eyes and dimpled over the whole shadowy countenance till itseemed just what a fountain would be if while dancing merrily into thesunshine it should assume the shape of woman  Through the dim rosinessof the cheeks I could see the brown leaves the slimy twigs the acornsand the sparkling sand  The solitary sunbeam was diffused among thegolden hair which melted into its faint brightness and became a gloryround that head so beautifulMy description can give no idea how suddenly the fountain was thustenanted and how soon it was left desolate  I breathed and there wasthe face  I held my breath and it was gone  Had it passed away orfaded into nothing  I doubted whether it had ever beenMy sweet readers what a dreamy and delicious hour did I spend wherethat vision found and left me  For a long time I sat perfectly stillwaiting till it should reappear and fearful that the slightest motionor even the flutter of my breath might frighten it away  Thus have Ioften started from a pleasant dream and then kept quiet in hopes towile it back  Deep were my musings as to the race and attributes ofthat ethereal being  Had I created her  Was she the daughter of myfancy akin to those strange shapes which peep under the lids ofchildrens eyes  And did her beauty gladden me for that one moment andthen die  Or was she a waternymph within the fountain or fairy orwoodland goddess peeping over my shoulder or the ghost of some forsakenmaid who had drowned herself for love  Or in good truth had a lovelygirl with a warm heart and lips that would bear pressure stolen softlybehind me and thrown her image into the springI watched and waited but no vision came again  I departed but with aspell upon me which drew me back that same afternoon to the hauntedspring  There was the water gushing the sand sparkling and the sunbeamglimmering  There the vision was not but only a great frog the hermitof that solitude who immediately withdrew his speckled snout and madehimself invisible all except a pair of long legs beneath a stoneMethought he had a devilish look  I could have slain himThus did the Vision leave me and many a doleful day succeeded to theparting moment  By the spring and in the wood and on the hill andthrough the village at dewy sunrise burning noon and at that magichour of sunset when she had vanished from my sight I sought her but invain  Weeks came and went months rolled away and she appeared not inthem  I imparted my mystery to none but wandered to and fro or sat insolitude like one that had caught a glimpse of heaven and could take nomore joy on earth  I withdrew into an inner world where my