THE EELS' MOVING-NIGHT
The Eels were as different from the Clams as people well could be. Itwas not alone that they looked unlike, but that they had such differentways of enjoying life. The Clams were chubby people, each comfortablysettled in his own shell, which he could open or shut as he chose. Theynever wanted to live anywhere else, or to get beyond the edges of theirown pearl-lined shells.
The Eels were long, slender, and slippery people, looking even more likesnakes than they did like fishes. They were always careful to tell newacquaintances, though, that they were not even related to the snakes."To be sure," they would say, "we do not wear our fins like mostfishes, but that is only a matter of taste after all. We should findthem dreadfully in the way if we did." And that was just like theEels--they were always so ready to explain everything to their friends.
They were great talkers. They would talk about themselves, and theirfriends, and the friends of their friends, and the pond, and theweather, and the state of the mud, and what everything was likeyesterday, and what it would be likely to be like to-morrow, and did youreally think so, and why? The Water-Adder used to say that they were theeasiest people in the pond to visit with, for all one had to do was tokeep still and look very much interested. Perhaps that may have been whythe Clams and they were such good friends.
The Clams, you know, were a quiet family. Unless a Clam was very, verymuch excited, he never said more than "Yes," "No," or "Indeed?" Theywere excellent listeners and some of the most popular people in thepond. Those who were in trouble told the Clams, and they would say,"Indeed," or "Ah," in such a nice way that their visitor was sure toleave feeling better. Others who wanted advice would go to them, andtalk over their plans and tell them what they wanted to do, and theClams would say, "Yes," and then the visitors would go away quitedecided, and say, "We really didn't know what to do until we spoke tothe Clams about it, but they agree with us perfectly." The Clams werealso excellent people to keep secrets, and as the Eels were forevertelling secrets, that was all very well.
Mother Eel was fussy. She even said so herself. And if a thing botheredher, she would talk and talk and talk until even her own children weretired of hearing about it. Now she was worrying over the pond water.
"I do not think it nearly so clean as it was last year," she said, "andthe mud is getting positively dirty. Our family are very particularabout that, and I think we may have to move. I do dread the moving,though. It is so much work with a family the size of mine, and Mr. Eelis no help at all with the children."
She was talking with Mother Mud Turtle when she said this, and thelittle Eels were wriggling all around her as she spoke. Then they beganteasing her to go, until she told them to swim away at once and playwith the young Minnows. "I'm afraid I shall have to go," said she, "ifonly on account of the children. I want them to see something of theworld. It is so dull in this pond. Were you ever out of it?" she asked,turning suddenly to Mrs. Mud Turtle.
"Oh, yes," answered she. "I go quite often, and one of my sons took avery long trip to the meadow. He went with some boys. It was mostexciting."
SHE WAS TALKING WITH MOTHER MUD TURTLE. _Page 160_]
"Is that the one with the--peculiar back-shell?" asked Mother Eel.
"Yes," replied Mother Mud Turtle sweetly. "He is very modest and doesnot care to talk about it much, but I am really quite pleased. Somepeople travel and show no sign of it afterward. One would never knowthat they had left home (Mother Eel wondered if she meant her), but withhim it is different. He shows marks of having been in the great worldoutside."
Mother Eel wriggled a little uneasily. "I think I must tell you afterall," she said. "I have really made up my mind to go. Mr. Eel thinks itfoolish, and would rather stay here, but I am positive that we can finda better place, and we must consider the children. He thinks he cares asmuch for them as I do, yet he would be willing to have them stay hereforever. He was hatched here, and thinks the pond perfect. We get totalking about it sometimes, and I say to him, 'Mr. Eel, where wouldthose children be now if it were not for me?'"
"And what does he say then?" asked the Mud Turtle Mother.
"Nothing," answered Mother Eel, with a smart little wriggle. "There isnothing for him to say. Yes, we shall certainly move. I am only waitingfor the right kind of night. It must not be too light, or the landpeople would see us; not too dark, or we could not see them. And thenthe grass must be dewy. It would never do for us to get dry, you know,or we should all be sick. But please don't speak of this, dear Mrs.Turtle. I would rather leave quietly when the time comes."
So the Mud Turtle Mother remembered that it was a secret, and toldnobody except the Mud Turtle Father, and he did not speak of it toanybody but the Snapping Turtle.
"Did you say that it was a secret?" asked the Snapping Turtle.
"Yes," said the Mud Turtle Father, "It is a great secret."
"Humph!" said the Snapping Turtle. "Then why did you tell me?"
That same day when the Stickleback Father came to look for nineteen ortwenty of his children who were missing, Mother Eel told him about herplans. "I thought you would be interested in hearing of it," she said,"but I shall not mention it to anybody else."
"You may be sure I shall not speak of it," said he. And probably hewould not have told a person, if it had not been that he forgot andtalked of it with the Snails. He also forgot to say that it was asecret, and so they spoke freely of it to the Crayfishes and the CaddisWorms.
The Caddis Worms were playing with the Tadpoles soon after this, and oneof them whispered to a Tadpole right before the others, although heknew perfectly well that it was rude for him to do so. "Now, don't youever tell," said he aloud.
"Uh-uh!" answered the Tadpole, and everybody knew that he meant "No,"even if they hadn't seen him wave his hindlegs sidewise. Of course, nothaving the right kind of neck for it, he couldn't shake his head.
Then the other Tadpoles and Caddis Worms wanted to tell secrets, andthey kept whispering to each other and saying out loud, "Now don't you_ever_ tell." When a Caddis Worm told a Tadpole anything, he said, "TheEels are going to move away." And when a Tadpole told a secret to aCaddis Worm, he just moved his lips and said, "Siss-el, siss-el,siss-el-siss. I'm only making believe, you know." But he was sure to addout loud, "Now don't you _tell_." And the Caddis Worm would answer,"Uh-uh!"
The Eel Mother also spoke to the Biggest Frog, asking him to watch thegrass for her and tell her when it was dewy enough for moving. He wasafraid he might forget it, and so told his sister and asked her to helphim remember. And she was afraid that she might forget, so she spoke toher friend, the Green Brown Frog, about it. The Yellow Brown Frogafterward said that he heard it from her.
One night it was neither too dark nor too light, and the dew lay heavyon the grass. Then Mother Eel said to her children, "Now stop yourwriggling and listen to me, every one of you! We shall move because themud here is so dirty. You are going out into the great world, and I wantyou to remember everything you feel and see. You may never have anotherchance."
The little Eels were so excited that they couldn't keep still, and shehad to wait for them to stop wriggling. When they were quiet, she wenton. "All the Eels are going--your uncles and aunts and cousins--and youchildren must keep with the older ones. Be careful where you wriggle to,and don't get on anybody else's tail."
She led the way out of the water and wriggled gracefully up the bank,although it was quite steep at that place. "I came this way," she said,"because I felt more as though this was the way to come." She closed hermouth very firmly as she spoke. Mr. Eel had thought another way better.They had to pass through crowds of pond people to reach the shore, foreverybody had kept awake and was watching. The older ones cried out,"Good-bye; we shall miss you," and waved their fins or their legs, ortheir tails, whichever seemed the handiest. The younger ones teased thelittle Eels and tried to hold them back, and told them they'd miss lotsof fun, and that they guessed they'd wish themselves back in the pondagain. When they got onto the shor
e, the Frogs and the Mud Turtles werethere, and it was a long time before they could get started on theirjourney. One of the little Eels was missing, and his mother had to goback for him. She found that a mischievous young Stickleback had him bythe tail.
When at last they were all together on the bank, the Eel Father said tohis wife, "Are you sure that the Cranes and Fish Hawks don't know aboutour moving? Because if they did--"
"I know," she said. "It would be dreadful if they found out; and we havebeen so late in getting started. We shall have to stop at the very firstwater we find now, whether we like it or not." She lay still andthought. "I have a feeling," said she, "that we should go this way." Sothat way they went, dragging their yellow bellies over the ground ascarefully as they could, their dark green backs with their long fringesof back fins hardly showing in the grass. It was a good thing that theirskin was so fat and thick, for sometimes they had to cross rough placesthat scraped it dreadfully and even rumpled the tiny scales that were init, while their long fringes of belly fins became worn and almostragged. "If your scales were on the outside," said their father, "likethose of other fishes, you wouldn't have many left."
Mother Eel was very tired and did not say much. Her friends began tofear that she was ill. At last she spoke, "I do not see," she said, "howpeople found out that we were to move."
"You didn't tell anybody?" said Mr. Eel.
"No indeed!" said she; and she really believed it. That was because shehad talked so much that she couldn't remember what she did say. It isalways so with those that talk too much.