"Hooray! Dig him up for the aquarium! Grandfather says it's very rare--doesn't he?"

"He says it's not at all common; and there's only one, Francis. It would be a pity if we didn't get it up by the roots, and it died."

"Nonsense, Molly. I'll get it up. But let's get the beasts first. You get the pickle-jar ready, whilst I fix the stick on to the colander."

"Does cook know you've taken it, Francis?"

"By this time she does, I should think. Look here, Molly--I wish you would try and get this stick right. It wants driving through the handles. I'm just going to have a look at the Water-Soldier."

"You always give me the work to do," Molly complained; and as she spoke, I climbed up an old stake that was firmly planted in the mud, and seated myself on the top, which stood out of the water, and looked at her.

She was a neat-looking little soul, with rosy cheeks, and a resolute expression of countenance. She looked redder and firmer than usual as she drove the broomstick through the handles of the colander, whilst the boy was at the other side of the pond with the Water-Soldier, whose maiden-blossom shone white among its sword-leaves.

It shone in the sunshine which came gaily through a gap in the trees, and warmed my coat through to my wings, and made the pond look lovely.

That greedy _Ranatra_, who eats so much, and never looks a bit the more solid for his meals, crept up a reed and sunned his wings; the water-gnats skimmed and skated about, measuring the surface of the water with their long legs; the "boatmen" shot up and down till one was quite giddy, showing the white on their bodies, like swallows wheeling for their autumn-flight. Even the water-scorpion moved slowly over a sunny place from the roots of an arrow-head lily to a dark corner under the duck-weed.

"Molly!" shouted the boy; "I wish you'd come and give a pull at the Water-Soldier. I've nearly got him up; but the leaves cut my hands, and you've got gloves. If the colander is ready, I'll begin to fish. There's a beetle on that stick. I wish I were near enough, I could s.n.a.t.c.h him up like anything."

"I wouldn't advise you to," said Molly. "Grandfather says that water-beetles have got daggers in their tails. Besides, some of the beetles are very greedy and eat the fish."

"The Big Black one doesn't," said Francis. "He said so. _Hydrous piceus_ is the name, and I dare say that's the one. It's the biggest of all the water-beetles and very harmless."

"He _may_ be a good one," said Molly, looking thoughtfully and unmistakably at me, "but then he may be one of the bad ones; and if he is, he'll eat everything before him."

But by this time Francis was dipping the colander in and out on the opposite side, and she was left to struggle with the Water-Soldier.

"He's up at last," she announced, and the Soldier was landed on the bank.

"Come round," said the boy; "I've filled three jars."

"I hope you've been careful, Francis. You know Grandfather says that to stock a fresh-water aquarium is like the puzzle of the Fox and the Geese and the bag of seed. It's no use our having things that eat each other."

"They must eat something," said the boy; "they're used to it at home; and I wish you wouldn't be always cramming Grandfather down my throat. I want to do my aquarium my own way; and I gave most towards buying the bell-gla.s.s, so it's more mine than yours."

"Well, do as you like; only let us have plenty of water-boatmen," said Molly.

"I've got half-a-dozen at least; and the last sweep I went very low, quite in the mud, and I've got some most horrid things. There's one of them like a flat-iron, with pincers at the point."

"That's a water-scorpion. Oh, Francis! he eats dreadfully."

"I don't believe he can, he's so flat. Molly, is that nasty-looking thing a dragon-fly larva?"

"I believe it is; for there is the mask. You know his face is so ugly nothing would come near him if he didn't wear a mask. Then he lifts it up and snaps suddenly; _he_ really _does_ eat everything!"

"Well, I can't help it. I must have him. I want to see him hatch; and I shall plant a bullrush for him to climb up."

"I found a caddis-worm, with a beautifully built house, in the roots of the Water-Soldier, and I'm going to look along the edge for some sh.e.l.ls.

We must have sh.e.l.l-fish, you know, to keep the aquarium clean. Oh!"

"What is it, Molly? What have you found?"

"Oh, such a lovely spider! A water-spider--a scarlet spider. He's very small, but such a colour! Francis dear, may I keep him all to myself? I don't think I _can_ let him go in with the others. If the dragon-fly larva ate him, I should never forgive myself, and you know you don't know for certain that the beetle is _Hydrous piceus_. I shall give him an aquarium of his very own in a green finger-gla.s.s, with nothing but a little very nice duckweed, and one small snail to keep it clean, like a general servant. May I, Francis?"

"By all means. I don't want your scarlet spider. I can get lots more."

He went on dipping with the colander, and she began to dig up water-plants and lay them in a heap. I sat and watched them, but the _Ranatra_ got nervous and tried to go below. As usual, the dry bristles in his tail would not pierce the water without a struggle, and after floundering in the most ludicrous fashion for a few minutes, he fell straight into the colander, and was put into one of the pickle-jars.

"I've got enough now," said the boy, "and I want to go home and see about my net. I must have some fish. Can you carry the plants, Molly?"

"I'll manage," said Molly. "Now I'm ready."

"Wait a minute, though--I'd forgotten the beetle."

When I heard this I dropped into the water; but somehow or other I turned over very clumsily, and, like the _Ranatra_, I fell through into the colander, and was transferred to a pickle-jar.

Anything more disagreeable than being shaken up in a gla.s.s bottle, with beetles, and boatmen, and larvae of all sorts and sizes, including a dragon-fly in the second stage of his career, I can hardly imagine. When they took us out and put us into the gla.s.s pond, matters were certainly better, though there is a vast difference between a gla.s.s pond and a pond in a wood.

The first day it was by no means a bad imitation of a real pond, except for the want of a bed of mud. Molly had covered the bottom of the gla.s.s with gravel which she had steadily washed till water would run clear from it, in spite of the impatient exclamations of Francis, that it "would do now," and quite regardless of the inconvenience to which I was subjected by being kept in the pickle-jar. In this gravel she had embedded the roots of some Water Crowfoot and other pond-plants. The stones in the middle were nicely arranged, and well covered with moss and water-weeds. When water had been poured in up to the brim of the bell-gla.s.s, and we had been emptied out of the jars, the dragon-fly larva got into a good hole among the stones and ate most of the May-fly grubs, water-shrimps, and so forth, as they came into sight. I did not do badly myself, and only the bigger and stronger members of our society and a few skins were there next day, when Francis brought a jar full of minnows, a small carp, and a bull's-head, and turned them out in our midst.

"How they dart and swim round and round!" he exclaimed.

"Splendid," said Molly. "I _am_ so sorry I am going away just now. You will try and keep the water fresh, won't you?"

"Of course I will. And let me have the scarlet spider whilst you are away. I couldn't find another."

"Well, if you must; but do take care, Francis. And here are the two bits of gutta-percha tubing to make into syphons. You must put them into hot water for a minute before you bend them, you know."

"I'll do it to-morrow, Molly; I have nothing else _to_ do, you know, because Edward Brown won't be back for three or four days. So we can do nothing about the cricket club."

It was on the third day, when both the pieces of gutta-percha tubing were in a wash-hand basin of hot water, and the dragon-fly larva and I were finishing a minnow, with the help of the water-scorpion, that Master Edward Brown arrived unexpectedly, and so pressed his friend Francis to come out and consult "just for two minutes," and so delayed him when he got him, that the tubing melted into a shapeless lump, and the carp died unnoticed by any one but myself.

On the fourth day the gla.s.s pond was moved into the conservatory, "to be out of the way." The fish were excellent eating, and though the snails were at their wits' end as the refuse rotted, and the water became more stagnant, and the weeds grew, till all the sh.e.l.l-fish in the pond could not have kept the place clean,--I did not mind it myself. As the water got low, I found a nice bit of rockwork above water, where I could sit by day, and at night the lights from the drawing-room gave an indescribable stimulus to my wings, and I sailed in, and flew round and round till I was tired, and (forgetting that no pond, not even a bed of mud, was below me!) drew in my wings, and dropped sharply down on to the floor. To do the family justice, they learned to know the sound of my fall, and even the old Doctor himself would go down on hands and knees to hunt for me under the sofa, for fear I should be trodden on.

On the fifth day I swallowed the scarlet spider. I hated myself for doing it, when I thought of Molly; but the spider was very foolish to meet me. He should have kept behind. And if I hadn't eaten him, the dragon-fly larva would. What _he_ had eaten, I do not think he could have told himself. There was very little left now for any one; even the water-scorpion had disappeared.

On the sixth day the gla.s.s pond had only two tenants worth speaking of--the dragon-fly larva and myself. We had both over-eaten ourselves, and for some hours we moved slowly about through the thickening puddle, nodding civilly when we pa.s.sed each other among the feathery sprays of the Water Crowfoot. Then I began to get hungry. I knew it by feeling an impulse to look out for the dragon-fly larva, and I knew he knew it because he began to avoid me.

On the seventh day Molly ran into the conservatory, followed by her brother, and uttered a cry of dismay.

"Oh, what a state it's in! Where are the syphons?"

"Why, they melted the day Edward Brown came back. We've been having such a lot of cricket, Molly!"

"There isn't a fish left, and it smells horribly."

"I'm very sorry, Molly. Let's throw it out. I don't want Grandfather to see it. Let me come."

"No, no, Francis! There may be some left. Yes, there's the beetle. I shall put it all in a pail and take it back to the pond. Oh dear! oh dear! I can't see anything of the scarlet spider. My beautiful scarlet spider! I was so fond of him. Oh, I am so sorry! And no one has watered the Soldier, and he's dead too."