THE YOUNG MINNOW WHO WOULD NOT EAT WHEN HE SHOULD
"When I grow up," said one young Minnow, "I am going to be a Bullhead,and scare all the little fishes."
"I'm not," said his sister. "I'm going to be a Sucker, and lie around inthe mud."
"Lazy! Lazy!" cried the other young Minnows, wiggling their front finsat her.
"What is the matter?" asked a Father Minnow, swimming in among them witha few graceful sweeps of his tail, and stopping himself by spreading hisfront fins. He had the beautiful scarlet coloring on the under part ofhis body which Father Minnows wear in the summer-time. That is, most ofthem do, but some wear purple. "What is the matter?" he asked again,balancing himself with his top fin and his two hind ones.
Then all the little Minnows spoke at once. "He says that when he growsup he is going to be a Bullhead, and frighten all the small fishes; andshe says that she is going to be a Sucker, and lie around in the mud;and we say that Suckers are lazy, and they _are_ lazy, aren't they?"
"I am surprised at you," began the Father Minnow severely, "to thinkthat you should talk such nonsense. You ought to know----"
But just then a Mother Minnow swam up to him. "The Snapping Turtle islooking for you," she said. Father Minnow hurried away and she turned tothe little ones. "I heard what you were saying," she remarked, with atwinkle in her flat, round eyes. "Which of you is going to be a WildDuck? Won't somebody be a Frog?" She had had more experience in bringingup children than Father Minnow, and she didn't scold so much. She didmake fun of them though, sometimes; and you can do almost anything witha young Minnow if you love him a great deal and make fun of him alittle.
"Why-ee!" said the young Minnows. "We wouldn't think of being WildDucks, and we couldn't be Frogs, you know. Frogs have legs--four ofthem. A fish couldn't be a Frog if he wanted to!"
"No," said Mother Minnow. "A fish cannot be anything but a fish, and aMinnow cannot be anything but a Minnow. So if you will try to be just asgood Minnows as you can, we will let the little Bullheads and Suckers dotheir own growing up."
She looked at them all again with her flat, round eyes, which saw somuch and were always open, because there was nothing to make them shut.She saw one tiny fellow hiding behind his brother. "Have you torn yourfin again?" she asked.
"Yes'm, just a little," said he. "A boy caught me when he was in wading,and I tore it when I flopped away from him."
"Dreadful!" said she. "How you do look! If you are so careless, you willsoon not have a whole fin to your back--or your front either. Children,you must remember to swim away from boys. When the Cows wade in todrink, you may stay among them, if you wish. They are friendly. We pondpeople are afraid of boys, although some of them are said not to bedangerous."
"Pooh!" said one young Minnow. "All the pond people are not so afraid!The Bloodsuckers say they like them."
The Mother Minnow looked very severe when he said this, but she onlyreplied, "Very well. When you are a Bloodsucker you may stay near boys.As long as you are a Minnow, you must stay away."
"Now," she added, "swim along, the whole school of you! I am tired andwant a nap in the pondweed." So they all swam away, and she wriggled hersilvery brown body into the soft green weeds and had a good sleep. Shewas careful to hide herself, for there were some people in the pond whomshe did not want to have find her; and, being a fish, she could not hearvery distinctly if they came near. Of course her eyes were open evenwhen she was asleep, because she had no eyelids, but they were notworking although they were open. That is an uncomfortable thing aboutbeing a fish--one cannot hear much. One cannot taste much either, orfeel much, yet when one has always been a fish and is used to it, it isnot so hard.
She slept a long time, and then the whole school of young Minnows cameto look for her. "We are afraid," they cried. "We feel so very queerly.We don't know how we feel, either, and that is the worst part of it. Itmight be in our stomachs, or it might be in our fins, and perhaps thereis something wrong with our gill-covers. Wake up and tell us what is thematter."
The Mother Minnow awakened and she felt queerly too, but, being older,she knew what was the matter. "That," she said, "is the storm feeling."
"But," said the young Minnows, "there isn't any storm."
"No," she answered wisely. "Not now."
"And there hasn't been any," they said.
"No," she answered again. "The storm you feel is the storm that isgoing to be."
"And shall we always feel it so?" they asked.
"Always before a storm," she said.
"Why?" asked the young Minnows.
"Because," said she. "There is no answer to that question, but just'because.' When the storm comes you cannot smell your food and find it,so you must eat all you can before then. Eat _everything_ you can findand be quick." As she spoke she took a great mouthful of pondweed andswallowed it.
All but one of the young Minnows swam quickly away to do as she had toldthem to. This young Minnow wanted to know just how and why and all aboutit, so he stayed to ask questions. You know there are some questionswhich fishes cannot answer, and some which Oxen cannot answer, and somewhich nobody can answer; and when the Mother Minnow told the youngMinnows what she did, she had nothing more to tell. But there are someyoung Minnows who never will be satisfied, and who tease, and tease, andtease, and tease.
"Hurry along and eat all you can," said the Mother Minnow to him again.
"I want to know," said he, opening his mouth very wide indeed andbreathing in a great deal of water as he spoke, "I want to know where Ifeel queerly."
"I can't tell," said the Mother Minnow, between mouthfuls. "No fish cantell."
"Well, what makes me feel queerly there?"
"The storm," said she.
"How does it make me feel queerly?"
"I don't know," said the Mother Minnow.
"Who does know?" asked the young Minnow.
"Nobody," said she, swallowing some more pondweed of one kind and thenbeginning on another. "Do eat something or you will be very hungry byand by."
"Well, why does a storm make me feel so?" asked he.
"Because!" said she. She said it very firmly and she was quite right insaying it then, for there was a cause, yet she could not tell what itwas. There are only about seven times in one's life when it is right toanswer in this way, and what the other six are you must decide foryourself.
Just then there was a peal of thunder which even a Minnow could hear,and the wind blew until the slender forest trees bent far over. The raincame down in great drops which pattered on the water of the pond andstarted tiny circles around each drop, every circle spreading wider andwider until it touched other circles and broke. Down in the darkenedwater the fishes lay together on the bottom, and wondered how long itwould last, and hoped it would not be a great, great while before theycould smell their food again.
One little fellow was more impatient than the others. "Didn't you eatenough to last you?" they said.
"I didn't eat anything," he answered.
"Not anything!" they exclaimed. "Why not?"
"Because!" said he. And that was not right, for he did know the reason.His mother looked at him, and he looked at her, and she had a twinkle inher round, flat eyes. "Poor child!" she thought. "He must be hungry."But she said nothing.