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It was to this remarkable geographical feature that Oliver Wendell Holmes referred in the following well-known verses: "Yon stream whose sources run Turned by a pebble's edge, Is Athabaska rolling toward the Sun Through the cleft mountain ledge." "The slender rill had strayed, But for the slanting stone, To evening's ocean, with the tangled braid Of foam-flecked Oregon."
Yon stream, whose sources run Turned by a pebble's edge, Is Athabasca, rolling toward the sun Through the cleft mountain-ledge. The slender rill had strayed, But for the slanting stone, To evening's ocean, with the tangled braid Of foam-flecked Oregon. So from the heights of Will Life's parting stream descends, And, as a moment turns its slender rill, Each widening torrent bends,
Before the ripples caused by the pebble's fall had died away, Pennroyal had ceased to live. Mrs. Pennroyal was still apparently insensible, but as Sir Archibald approached her she partly raised herself up, and looked first at him and then at the dead body. "It was not worth while," she said. "It's done," he murmured. "Are you hurt?" "What shall we do?" "We must get back to Malmaison."
He needed time in which to consider; he must not add a pebble's weight to an avalanche that might go crashing down upon the innocent. His training had made him wary of circumstantial evidence; after all it was possible that this was not the letter he had carried to Professor Kelton. It would be very like Mrs.
Yon stream, whose sources run Turned by a pebble's edge, Is Athabasca, rolling toward the sun Through the cleft mountain-ledge. The slender rill had strayed, But for the slanting stone, To evening's ocean, with the tangled braid Of foam-flecked Oregon. So from the heights of Will Life's parting stream descends, And, as a moment turns its slender rill, Each widening torrent bends,
Away from the cabin a pebble's throw, he shook his shoulders and pulled his mind away from her, back to the man with the rifle and to Barney. Rocking in a chair never hurt anybody that he ever heard of. And shooting from rim-rocks did. And Barney was down there, holed up and helpless, though he had grub and water.
On the Channel transport it was the same; the same from Dieppe to Paris; from Paris to Belfort; and now, here within a pebble's toss of the Swiss frontier, military curiosity concerning their papers apparently remained unquenched. The sous-officier of dragoon-lancers sat his splendid horse and gravely inspected the papers, one by one.
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