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Updated: May 7, 2025
They looked like growing things, and yet they seemed to be floating right on top of the water. It wasn't until a Merry Little Breeze came along and turned the edge of one up so that Peter saw the long stem running down in the water out of sight, that he was able to understand how those lily-pads could be growing there.
He selects some spot, a cove filled with lily-pads, a bend of a river, or a sunken treetop like the home of Old Muskie, and there he will stay, month after month, if not year after year. So there was little danger of Old Muskie's leaving Forest Lodge Cove that summer unless he was caught or killed or died the mysterious death that comes to the great fish of the streams and lakes.
So twice and once again the rivulet was passed which ran from the lily-pond, she and I leading all the others on the return from the woodland afternoon walk. We turned and faced away from the declining sun and across the clear pool to where its upper end, dotted with lily-pads, lay in a deep recess of the woods.
Close to shore the water is coated over with lily-pads, mingling with a bright green, beady vegetation; and Tibe mistook it for a meadow. Standing at a considerable elevation on the road above, he leaped down with happy confidence, only to be deceived as many wiser than he have been, by appearances.
Do not start, when, in such an effort, only your own dreamy face looks back upon you, beyond the gunwale of the reflected boat, and you find that you float double, self and shadow. Let us rest our paddles, and look round us, while the idle motion sways our light skiff onward, now half-embayed among the lily-pads, now lazily gliding over intervening gulfs.
Its sluggish current scarcely moves the autumn leaves showered upon it by a few maples that lean over the Assabet as one of its branches is named. Yellow lily-buds and leathery lily-pads tessellate its surface, and the white water-lilies pale, proud Ladies of Shalott bare their virgin breasts to the sun in the seclusion of its distant reaches.
There was one place in particular that required very cautious angling. It was a spring-hole at the mouth of the Riviere du Milieu an open space, about a hundred feet long and fifteen feet wide, in the midst of the lily-pads, and surrounded on every side by clear, shallow water. Here the great trout assembled at certain hours of the day; but it was not easy to get them.
He was sitting among the bulrushes on the edge of the Smiling Pool, for the lily-pads were not yet big enough for him to sit on comfortably. "Oh, Grandfather Frog, what's the matter with the Smiling Pool?" they shouted, as they came up quite out of breath. "Chugarum! There's nothing the matter with the Smiling Pool; it's the best place in all the world," replied Grandfather Frog gruffly.
On all sides the eye was irresistibly led along their vanishing perspectives, following the curve of a wood-path or the solemn stretch of a forest glade flanked by a wall of verdure that was nearly black. The moonlight, filtering through the branches of the crossways, made the lonely, tranquil waters, where they peeped between the crosses and the lily-pads, sparkle like diamonds.
And here float little emissaries from the dominions of land; for the fallen florets of the Viburnum drift among the lily-pads, with mast-like stamens erect, sprinkling the water with a strange beauty, and cheating us with the promise of a new aquatic flower. These are the still life of this sequestered nook; but it is in fact a crowded thoroughfare.
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