had sucked all the goodness out of it, you
see."

"What did you do then?" asked the reed-warbler.

"I did nothing," replied the mussel. "I never do anything, except when
any one sticks something between my shells. Then I become furious and I
pinch.... Hullo, are you there again, Goody Cray-Fish? Do you want one
of your little legs amputated, eh?"

"The wind-bag!" said the cray-fish.

"But you might have died of hunger," said the reed-warbler.

"One doesn't die so easily as that," replied the mussel. "Unless an
accident befalls one, as in the case of our poor carp. In fact, I once
lay for a whole year on a table in a room."

"Goodness gracious!" said the reed-warbler. "How did you get there?"

"I was fished up by a student or somebody. He wrapped me in a piece of
paper and put me on the table. He wanted to see how long I could live.
Every Saturday, he unpacked me and poured a little water over me; and
that was enough to keep me alive."

"But how did you escape from him?"

"Well," said the mussel, "it was when he got engaged. People used to
come and see him sometimes, you know, and, of course, they all had to
look at the wonderful mussel that refused to die. There was a young girl
among them who was very cross with him for teasing me so. But he only
laughed at her. Well, when I had been there a year, he got engaged to
her.... They were sitting on the sofa just by me, when it happened, and
I was not so dead but that I could lift my shells a little and see the
whole thing: they're funny creatures, those human beings! Well, then he
asked her if there was anything she would like on that joyful day. Yes,
she would like me to be put back in the water again. He laughed at her.
But off they went with me to the very pond where I was fished up and
threw me in. Then I settled down among the other fellows and began all
over again."

"Yes ... love!" said the reed-warbler, looking round at his wife.

"Ah ... love!" said she, returning his glance.

"I have nothing to say against it," said the mussel. "But, as a matter
of fact, I have no personal experience of it."

"Surely you have a wife," said the reed-warbler. "Or, perhaps ...
perhaps you are a lady ...?"

"I am neither one or the other. I am just a mussel. And I lay my eggs
and then that's done!"

"Do you look after your children nicely?" asked the reed-warbler.

"What next!" exclaimed the mussel. "My children are very remarkable
individuals. They are sailors."