emaining here and growing to be a hundred."

A boy stood on the edge of the pond. He had a big stone in his hand.
Suddenly, he flung it into the water with all his might. Then he went on
and thought no more about it.

But the stone had hit the mussel and smashed him to pieces.

"There!" he said. "That's the end of me. Both shells smashed ... there's
nothing to be done. Good-bye and thank you for your pleasant company."

[Illustration]

One by one all the eyes on his mantle grew dim; and then he was dead.

"Goodness knows who will be the next!" said the reed-warbler.

But Goody Cray-Fish came slowly crawling and took the dead mussel in her
claws:

"Now I shall get my leg back with interest," said she.

CHAPTER X

[Illustration]

The Cray-Fish's Journey

"How is my dear grub?" asked little Mrs. Reed-Warbler.

"Pretty well, thanks," replied the May-fly grub. "There was a roach, who
wanted to eat me; and two caddis-grubs, who tugged at me; and a
whirligig, who bit me in one of my legs. Otherwise, I've had a capital
time."

Aren't you almost ready?"

"To-day or to-morrow, I think."

"Take care you don't meet with an accident first," said Mrs.
Reed-Warbler, kindly.

Goody Cray-Fish crept round restlessly:

"Food's scarce," she said. "Oh, if I were only a smart bird and could
fly away! But, it's true, you're angry with me, ma'am, and I hardly dare
speak to you."

"I was very angry with you," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "But, since then, I
have experienced such horrors that I've almost forgotten it. I have made
the acquaintance of a spider who ate her own mother."

"Oh dear, oh dear!" said the cray-fish. "That's enough to upset any
mother."

"So it is. She also ate her husband."

"I don't say that's right," said the cray-fish. "But at any rate it's
more excusable, for men are neither more nor less than monsters. Oh, of
course, I make an exception of your own husband, ma'am."

"Is it true, Goody Cray-Fish?" said Mrs. Reed-Warbler--"tell me, did you
really eat your children?"

"I had the misfortune to eat seven of them," replied the cray-fish, with
a woebegone face. "But it was out of sheer love. They were so nice. And,
as I was patting them with my claws, I happened to touch them too hard.
So I had to eat them myself, rather than let them go to strangers."

"It's terrible to listen to," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler.

"Yes, it's sad," said the cray-fish. "But their troubles are over now,
poor litt