le dears, while their hundred and ninety-three brothers and
sisters have to go on struggling through this wicked world! Goodness
alone knows how many of them are still alive and how they are doing!"

"Yes, it's a wicked world," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler.

"Would you mind telling me, ma'am?" asked the cray-fish, "don't you
think a body might get away from the pond?"

"We shall leave in the autumn," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler, "for Italy. But
you have no wings, Goody Cray-Fish, so I don't see how you can go."

"That's just it. If one had wings, one would soon be off. But they might
be in one's way in the water. However, there are other people who
travel, though they have no wings. What about the eel, ma'am, for
instance?"

"Yes ... the eel," said Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "He can wriggle and twist.
You can't, you see."

"No," replied the cray-fish looking very sadly out of her stalked eyes.
"I can't do that at all. Because of my stiff shirt, you know. Though I
may be thankful for it, too, or I should have been done for long ago."

"What do you propose, then?"

The cray-fish crawled right under the reeds, where the nest hung, and
asked, in a low whisper:

"What do you think of the mussel, ma'am?"

"The mussel?"

"Yes, the mussel. You see, I sit here in the mud and hear such a lot of
things and turn them over in my mind. And I heard the story with which
the mussel was diverting you and Mr. Reed-Warbler the other day. Do you
think it's to be depended on?"

"Of course I do."

"Well, I don't take much account of the mussel," said the cray-fish. "A
mollusc like that! And then he insulted me, besides. But I've eaten him
now and I don't like to speak harm of what I've eaten myself. And, if
the story is genuine, another person might possibly save herself in the
same manner."

"Why, you have no shells to pinch with, Goody Cray-Fish!"

"No, but I have my claws," replied the cray-fish. "And, believe me,
ma'am, they can pinch too."

The reed-warbler came home from hunting and his wife told him about the
cray-fish's plan. They both laughed at it, but Goody Cray-Fish stuck to
her guns.

She did not go to her hole all the morning, but crawled around and swam
on the surface of the water, to see if no opportunity offered.

About the middle of the day, a little roach came skimming along.

"Look out, grub!" cried Mrs. Reed-Warbler.

"I've hidden under a leaf and I'm all right," replied the May-fly grub.

"Here's the roach," said