until, with a one, two, three,
the shell of his tail was shed as well.

Now he was quite naked and funny to look at and talked with a very faint
voice:

"Good-bye, mother," he said. "Give the young ones my love, for they will
be gone, I daresay, before I come back again. I am retiring for ten days
or so and shall be at home to nobody."

"You monster!" yelled Goody. "Just look at him ... now he'll creep into
his hole and lie there idle. In ten days' time he'll come out again, in
brand-new clothes, looking most awfully arrogant." She wrung her claws
and glared terribly with her stalked eyes. "I should really like to
crawl into the hole after him and bite him to death," she continued.
"His life isn't worth twopence in his present condition. But I loved
him once. And one is and remains just a silly woman."

"Yes, Goody Cray-Fish, and then you have the children," said little Mrs.
Reed-Warbler.

"That's true," she replied. "And, indeed, they are my only comfort. The
dear little things, I feel as if I would love to eat them. You should
just see, ma'am, how they hang on to my skirts during the first week.
They are so fond of me that they simply can't leave me."

"How nice that is!" said Mrs. Reed-Warbler.

"Yes. And afterwards I have no trouble with them at all. You may believe
me or not, as you please, dear lady, but, as soon as they are a week
old, they go into the world and look after themselves. It's in their
blood. It has never been known in the pond for a twelve-day-old
cray-fish to be a burden on his family. And then you're done with them;
and that may be rather sad, but, of course, it's a relief as well: two
hundred children like that, in a small household! But you shall see
them, ma'am, when they come ... I really have to control myself in order
not to eat them, they're such dears!"

"Well, I'll tell you something, Goody Cray-Fish," said Mrs.
Reed-Warbler. "When my young ones are out, you shall have the shells."

"Oh, how good of you, ma'am!" said the cray-fish. "You could not
possibly do me a greater kindness. For I promise you I shall eat them. I
eat as much chalk as I can get hold of against the time when I change my
things, for that puts starch into the new shirt. But then, also, you
must really promise me, ma'am, to look at my young ones. They are so
sweet that, goodness knows, I should like to eat them...."

At that moment, a large carp appeared in the water, with a sad, weary
face:

"You do eat th