The Water-Babies: A Fairy Tale for a Land-Baby
in the water-world for a long, long time to come. He had nothing to do
now but enjoy himself, and look at all the pretty things which are to
be seen in the cool clear water-world, where the sun is never too hot,
and the frost is never too cold.
And what did he live on? Water-cresses, perhaps; or perhaps water-gruel,
and water-milk; too many land-babies do so likewise. But we do not know
what one-tenth of the water-things eat; so we are not answerable for the
water-babies.
Sometimes he went along the smooth gravel water-ways, looking at the
crickets which ran in and out among the stones, as rabbits do on land;
or he climbed over the ledges of rock, and saw the sand-pipes hanging in
thousands, with every one of them a pretty little head and legs peeping
out; or he went into a still corner, and watched the caddises eating
dead sticks as greedily as you would eat plum-pudding, and building
their houses with silk and glue. Very fanciful ladies they were; none of
them would keep to the same materials for a day. One would begin with
some pebbles; then she would stick on a piece of green wood; then she
found a shell, and stuck it on too; and the poor shell was alive, and
did not like at all being taken to build houses with: but the caddis did
not let him have any voice in the matter, being rude and 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, as they were
at the end of the Long Pond last May, 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, as we did. But they were quite right, you know; for
people must always follow the fashion, even if it be spoon-bonnets.
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.
There was one wonderful little fellow, too, who peeped out of the top of
a house built of round bricks. He had two big wheels, and one little
one, all over teeth, spinning round and round like the wheels in a
thrashing-machine; and Tom stood and stared at him, to see what he was
going to make with his machinery. And what do you think he was doing?
Brick-making. With his two big wheels he swept together all the mud
which floated in the water: all that was nice in it he put into his
stomach and ate; and all the mud he put into the little wheel on his
breast, which really was a round hole set with teeth; and there he spun
it into a neat hard round brick; and then he took it and stuck it on the
top of his house-wall, and set to work to make another. Now was not he a
clever little fellow?
Tom thought so: but when he wanted to talk to him the brick-maker was
much too busy and proud of his work to take notice of him.
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. Some people say that boys cannot help it; that it is nature, and
only a proof that we are all originally descended from beasts of prey.
But whether it is nature or not, little boys can help it, and must help
it. For if they have naughty, low, mischievous tricks in their nature,
as monkeys have, that is no reason why they should give way to those
tricks like monkeys, who know no better. And therefore they must not
torment dumb creatures; for if they do, a certain old lady who is coming
will surely give them exactly what they deserve.
But Tom did not know that; and he pecked and howked the poor
water-things about sadly, 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.
At last one day he found a caddis, and wanted it to peep out of its
house: but its house-door was shut. He had never seen a caddis with a
house-door before: so what must he do, the meddlesome little fellow, but
pull it open, to see what the poor lady was doing inside. What a shame!
How should you like to have any one breaking your bedroom-door in, to
see how you looked when you were in bed? So Tom broke to pieces the
door, which was the prettiest little grating of silk, stuck all over
with shining bits of crystal; and when he looked in, the caddis poked
out her head, and it had turned into just the shape of a bird's. But
when Tom spoke to her she could not answer; for her mouth and face were
tight tied up in a new night-cap of neat pink skin. However, if she
didn't answer, all the other caddises did; for they held up their hands
and shrieked like the cats in Struwwelpeter: "_Oh, you nasty horrid boy;
there you are at it again! And she had just laid herself up for a
fortnight's sleep, and then she would have come out with such beautiful
wings, and flown about, and laid such lots of eggs: and now you have
broken her door, and she can't mend it because her mouth is tied up for
a fortnight, and she will die. Who sent you here to worry us out of our
lives?_"
So Tom swam away. He was very much ashamed of himself, and felt all the
naughtier; as little boys do when they have done wrong and won't say so.
Then he came to a pool full of little trout, and began tormenting them,
and trying to catch them: but they slipped through his fingers, and
jumped clean out of water in their fright. But as Tom chased them, he
came close to a great dark hover under an alder root, and out floushed a
huge old brown trout ten times as big as he was, and ran right against
him, and knocked all the breath out of his body; and I don't know which
was the more frightened of the two.
Then he went on sulky and lonely, as he deserved to be; and under a
bank he saw a very ugly dirty creature sitting, about half as big as
himself; which had six legs, and a big stomach, and a most ridiculous
head with two great eyes and a face just like a donkey's.
"Oh," said Tom, "you are an ugly fellow to be sure!" and he began making
faces at him; and put his nose close to him, and halloed at him, like a
very rude boy.
When, hey presto; all the thing's donkey-face came off in a moment, and
out popped a long arm with a pair of pincers at the end of it, and
caught Tom by the nose. It did not hurt him much; but it held him quite
tight.
"Yah, ah! Oh, let me go!" cried Tom.
"Then let me go," said the creature. "I want to be quiet. I want to
split."
Tom promised to let him alone, and he let go. "Why do you want to
split?" said Tom.
"Because my brothers and sisters have all split, and turned into
beautiful creatures with wings; and I want to split too. Don't speak to
me. I am sure I shall split. I will split!"
Tom stood still, and watched him. And he swelled himself, and puffed,
and stretched himself out stiff, and at last--crack, puff, bang--he
opened all down his back, and then up to the top of his head.
And out of his inside came the most slender, elegant, soft creature, as
soft and smooth as Tom: but very pale and weak, like a little child who
has been ill a long time in a dark room. It moved its legs very feebly;
and looked about it half ashamed, like a girl when she goes for the
first time into a ballroom; and then it began walking slowly up a grass
stem to the top of the water.
Tom was so astonished that he never said a word: but he stared with all
his eyes. And he went up to the top of the water too, and peeped out to
see what would happen.
And as the creature sat in the warm bright sun, a wonderful change came
over it. It grew strong and firm; the most lovely colours began to show
on its body, blue and yellow and black, spots and bars and rings; out of
its back rose four great wings of bright brown gauze; and its eyes grew
so large that they filled all its head, and shone like ten thousand
diamonds.
"Oh, you beautiful creature!" said Tom; and he put out his hand to catch
it.
But the thing whirred up into the air, and hung poised on its wings a
moment, and then settled down again by Tom quite fearless.
"No!" it said, "you cannot catch me. I am a dragon-fly now, the king of
all the flies; and I shall dance in the sunshine, and hawk over the
river, and catch gnats, and have a beautiful wife like myself. I know
what I shall do. Hurrah!" And he flew away into the air, and began
catching gnats.
"Oh! come back, come back," cried Tom, "you beautiful creature. I have
no one to play with, and I am so lonely here. If you will but come back
I will never try to catch you."
"I don't care whether you do or not," said the dragon-fly; "for you
can't. But when I have had my dinner, and looked a little about this
pretty place, I will come back, and have a little chat about all I have
seen in my travels. Why, what a huge tree this is! and what huge leaves
on it!"
It was only a big dock: but you know the dragon-fly had never seen any
but little water-trees; starwort, and milfoil, and water-crowfoot, and
such like; so it did look very big to him. Besides, he was very
short-sighted, as all dragon-flies are; and never could see a yard
before his nose; any more than a great many other folks, who are not
half as handsome as he.
The dragon-fly did come back, and chatted away with Tom. He was a little
conceited about his fine colours and his large wings; but you know, he
had been a poor dirty ugly creature all his life before; so there were
great excuses for him. He was very fond of talking about all the
wonderful things he saw in the trees and the meadows; and Tom liked to
listen to him, for he had forgotten all about them. So in a little while
they became great friends.
And I am very glad to say, that Tom learned such a lesson that day, that
he did not torment creatures for a long time after. And then the