Page:Stevenson - An Inland Voyage (1878).djvu/127

river was in such a hurry for the sea! Every drop of water ran in a panic, like as many people in a frightened crowd. But what crowd was ever so numerous, or so single-minded? All the objects of sight went by at a dance measure; the eyesight raced with the racing river; the exigencies of every moment kept the pegs screwed so tight, that our being quivered like a well-tuned instrument; and the blood shook off its lethargy, and trotted through all the highways and byeways of the veins and arteries, and in and out of the heart, as if circulation were but a holiday journey, and not the daily moil of three score years and ten. The reeds might nod their heads in warning, and with tremulous gestures, tell how the river was as cruel as it was strong and cold, and how death lurked in the eddy underneath the willows. But the reeds had to stand where they were; and those who stand still are always timid advisers. As for us, we