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bling Brook, but it, too, had changed. It was smooth, like glass. So the little rabbit leaned over the bank to listen, but just then Billy Breeze made a dreadful racket and whirled the snow about in great clouds. But the little rabbit didn't care; he just kept on listening, and by and by he heard the Bubbling Brook singing softly:

"Underneath the ice and snow
Very gently still I flow
Till I reach the Old Duck Pond
And the ocean far beyond.

"Billy Breeze may whistle loud
Toss the snow up in a cloud,
Underneath the ice and snow
Very gently still I flow."

"Dear me," said the little rabbit to himself, "I never would know that this was the Old Duck Pond if it weren't for the Old