Country Life
BY IAN NIALL
ONE often hears it said that this is an extravagant age, but whether it is or not, there
is one thing we use with a liberality that is often astonishing, even if we seldom suffer a shortage. Tens of thousands of gallons of water run away in the drains and sewers of countless towns every hour. One doesn't think of this on the top of a moor where a trickle of water passes over a rock and goes on from a mere thread to a ribbon of silver, tumbling at length into a reservoir. On the high ground that little stream of acid water doesn't bring to mind the reciprocation of a washing machine's working parts, or the soap bubbles in a tub. One may think of drought when 'harrows raise dust, when growth is suddenly stunted, or, as 1 do, when I find I can stand dryshod and fish in places that were under water a week before. The prophets are all gloomy now. There will, they say, be a water shortage this summer.
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