the
flag.

"It was not I who ate the roach," said the perch; "it was the pike,
Bevis dear."

"Indeed it was not," said the pike, coming forward a little from under
some floating weeds, where he had been in hiding, so that Bevis could
now see his long body. "The perch says things that are not true."

"You know you hate me," said the perch; "because your
great-great-grandfather swallowed mine in a rage, and my
great-great-grandfather's spines stuck in your great-great-grandfather's
throat and killed him. And ever since then, Bevis dear, they have done
nothing but tell tales against me. I did not touch the roach; the pike
wanted him, I know, for breakfast."

"I deny it," said the pike; "but if it was not the perch it was the
rat."

"That's false," said the rat; "I have only this minute come down to the
brook. If it was not the pike nor the perch, depend upon it it was the
heron."

"I am sure it was not the heron," said a beautiful drake, who came
swimming down the stream. "I was here as early as any one, and I will
not have my acquaintance the heron accused in his absence. I assure you
it was not the heron."

"Well, who did it then?" said Bevis.

"The fact is," said a frog on the verge of the stream, "they are all as
bad as one another; the perch is a rogue and a thief; the pike is a
monster of iniquity; the heron never misses a chance of gobbling up
somebody; and as for the drake, for all his glossy neck and his innocent
look, he is as ready to pick up anything as the rest."

"Quack," cried the drake in a temper; "quack."

"Hush!" said a tench from the bottom of a deep hole under the bank--he
was always a peacemaker. "Hush! do stop the noise you are making. If you
would only lie quiet in the mud like me, how pleasant you would find
life."

"Bevis," began the reed; "Bevis dear. Ah, ah!" His voice died away, for
as the sun got higher the wind fell, and the reed could only speak while
the wind blew. The flag laughed as the reed was silenced.

"You need not laugh," said the perch; "you can only talk while the water
waggles you. The horse will come down to the brook to-morrow, and bite
off your long green tip, and then you will not be able to start any more
falsehoods about me."

"The birds are coming," said the frog. "I should like to swim across to
the other side, where I can see better, but I am afraid of the pike and
the drake. Bevis dear, fling that piece of dead stick at them."

Bevis picked up the d