was one of joy; for beyond that
headland, what friendly faces waited for us--faces turned even now,
perhaps, toward the east for a first glimpse of our little boat. But hard
after this, came a pang of regret--it was over, our water-pilgrimage, and I
wanted it to go on.

It was over. And yet, not really over after all. I sometimes think that
pleasures ought to be valued according to whether they are over when they
_are_ over, or not. "You cannot eat your cake and have it too." True, but
that is because it is cake. There are other things which you can eat, and
still have. And our rowboat cruise is one of these. It is over, and yet it
is not over. It never will be. I can shut my eyes--indeed, I do not need
even to shut them--and again I am under the open sky, I am afloat in the
sun and the wind, with the waters all around me. I see again the
surf-edged curves of the beaches, the lines of the sand-cliffs, the ragged
horizon edge, cut and jagged by the waves. I feel the boat, I feel the
oars, I am aware of the damp, pure night air, and the sounds of the waves
ceaselessly breaking on the sand.

It is not over. Its best things are still ours, and those things which
were hardly pleasures then have become such now. As we remember our aching
muscles and blistered hands, we smile. As we recall times of intense
weariness, of irritation, of anxiety, we find ourselves lingering over
them with enjoyment. For memory does something wonderful with experience.
It is a poet, and life is its raw material. I know that our cruise was
made up of minutes, of oar-strokes, so many that to count them would be
weariness unending. But in my memory, these things are re-created. I see a
boundless stretch of windy or peaceful waters. I see the endless line of
misty coast. I see lovely islands, sleeping alone, waiting to be possessed
by those who come. And I see a little, little boat, faring along the
coast-lands, out to the islands, over the waters--going on, and on, and on.

THE END

COLOPHON

The Riverside Press

CAMBRIDGE . MASSACHUSETTS

U . S . A

APPENDIX A: EXTRA FRONT PAGES

By Elisabeth Woodbridge

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