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ponies, till they were brought to a good path and so at last to the very
brink of the river. It was flowing fast and noisily, as mountain-streams
do of a summer evening, when sun has been all day on the snow far up
above. There was only a narrow bridge of stone without a parapet, as
narrow as a pony could well walk on; and over that they had to go, slow
and careful, one by one, each leading his pony by the bridle. The elves