selfish, as vain people are apt to be; then she stuck on a piece of rotten wood, then a very smart pink stone, and so on, till she was patched all over like an Irishman’s coat.  Then she found a long straw, five times as long as herself, and said, “Hurrah! my sister has a tail, and I’ll have one too;” and she stuck it on her back, and marched about with it quite proud, though it was very inconvenient indeed.  And, at that, tails became all the fashion among the caddis-baits in that pool, and they all toddled about with long straws sticking out behind, getting between each other’s legs, and tumbling over each other, and looking so ridiculous, that Tom laughed at them till he cried.

Then sometimes he came to a deep, still reach; and there he saw the water forests.  They would have looked to you only little weeds; but Tom, you must remember, was so little that everything looked a hundred times as big to him as it does to you, just as things do to a minnow, who sees and catches the little water creatures which you can only see in a microscope.

And in the water forest he saw the water monkeys and water squirrels (they had all six legs, though; everything, almost, has six legs in the water, except efts and water babies); and nimbly enough they ran among the branches.  There were water flowers there too, in thousands; and Tom tried to pick them; but as soon as he touched them, they drew themselves in and turned into knots of jelly; and then Tom saw that they were all alive—­bells, and stars, and wheels, and flowers, of all beautiful shapes and colours; and all alive and busy, just as Tom was.  So now he found that there was a great deal more in the world than he had fancied at first sight.

Now you must know that all the things under the water talk; only not such a language as ours; but such as horses, and dogs, and cows, and birds talk to each other; and Tom soon learned to understand them and talk to them; so that he might have had very pleasant company if he had only been a good boy.  But I am sorry to say, he was too like some other little boys, very fond of hunting and tormenting creatures for mere sport, till they were all afraid of him, and got out of his way, or crept into their shells; so he had no one to speak to or play with.

The water fairies, of course, were very sorry to see him so unhappy, and longed to take him, and tell him how naughty he was, and teach him to be good, and to play and romp with him, too; but they had been forbidden to do that.  Tom had to learn his lesson for himself by sound and sharp experience, as many another foolish person has to do, though there may be many a kind heart yearning over them all the while, and longing to teach them what they can only teach themselves.