Round-about Rambles in Lands of Fact and Fancy Part 16

All the fairies agreed that nothing could be more sensible than to wash little Bridget, and so they gathered around her, and, with all gentleness, some of them lifted her up and carried her down towards the brook, while the others danced about her, and jumped over her, and hung on to long fern leaves, and scrambled among the bushes, and were as merry as a boxful of crickets.

When they approached the brook, one of the fairies jumped in to see if the water was warm enough, and the Princ.i.p.al One and the Next Biggest held a consultation, as to how little Bridget should be washed.

"Shall we just souse her in?" said the Next Biggest.

"I hardly think so," said the Princ.i.p.al One. "She may not be used to that sort of thing, and she might take cold. It will be best just to lay her down on the bank and wash her there."

So little Bridget, who had never opened her eyes all this time (and no wonder, for you will find, if you are ever carried by fairies while you are asleep, that they will bear you along so gently that you will never know it), was brought to the brook and laid softly down by the water's edge.

Then all the fairies set to work in good earnest. Some dipped clover blossoms in the water, and washed and rubbed her mouth and cheeks until there was not a sign left of strawberry or blackberry stain; others gathered fern leaves and soft gra.s.s, and washed her little feet until they were as white as lambs' wool; and the Very Least, who had been the one to carry her hand, now washed it with ever so many morning-glory-blossom-fuls of water and rubbed it dry with soft clean moss.

Other fairies curled her hair around flower stalks, while some scattered sweet smelling blossoms about her, until there was never such a sweet, clean, and fragrant little girl in the whole world.

And all this time she never opened her eyes. But no wonder, for if you are ever washed by fairies while you are asleep, you will find that you will never know it.

When all was done, and not a speck of dirt was to be seen anywhere on little Bridget, the fairies took her gently up and carried her to her mother's house, for they knew very well where she lived. There they laid her down on the doorstep, where it was both warm and shady, and they all scampered away as fast as their funny little legs could carry them.

It was now about the right time in the morning to get up, and very soon the front door opened and out came Aunt Ann, with a bucket on her arm, which she was going to fill at the well for the purpose of giving little Bridget her morning wash.

When Aunt Ann saw the little girl lying on the door step she was so astonished that she came very near dropping the bucket.

"Well, I never!" said she, "if it isn't little Bridget, and just as clean as a new pin! I do declare I believe the sweet innocent has jumped out of bed early, and gone and washed and combed herself, just to save me the trouble!"

Aunt Ann's voice was nothing like so soft and gentle as a fairy's, and it woke up little Bridget.

"You lovely dear!" cried her Aunt, "I hadn't the least idea in the world that you were such a smart little thing, and there is no doubt but that you are now old enough to wash and dress yourself, and after this you may do it!"

So, after that, Bridget washed and dressed herself, and was just as happy as the birds, the b.u.t.terflies, and flowers.

SOME NOVEL FISHING.

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Fishing has one great peculiarity which makes it often vastly more interesting than hunting, gunning, or many other sports of the kind, and that is that you never know exactly what you are going to get.

If we fish in waters known to us, we may be pretty sure of what we shall _not_ get, but even in our most familiar creeks and rivers, who can say that the fish which is tugging at our line is certainly a perch, a cat-fish, or an eel? We know that we shall not pull up a shad or a salmon, but there is always a chance for some of those great prizes which are to be found, by rare good luck, in every river and good-sized stream; a rock-fish, or striped-ba.s.s perhaps, or a pike, or enormous chub.

But there are some fish which would not only gratify but astonish most of us, if we could be so fortunate as to pull them out of the water. For instance, here are some fish with both their eyes on one side of their heads.

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These are Turbots, and are accounted most excellent eating. They resemble, in their conformation but not in their color, our flounders or flat-fish, which some of you may have caught, and many of you have eaten. These fish lie on one side, at the very bottom of the water in which they live, and consequently one eye would be buried in the mud and would be of no use, if they were formed like common fish. But as their enemies and their food must come from above them, they need both their eyes placed so that they can always look upwards. In the picture at the head of this article, you will see some Soles lying together at the bottom. These are formed in the same way. They are white on one side, which is always down except when they are swimming about, and a very dark green on the other, so that they can scarcely be distinguished from the mud when they are lying at the bottom. The Turbot, however, as you see, is very handsomely spotted.

But there are much stranger fish than these flat fellows, and we must take a look at some of them. What would you say if you were to pull up such a fish as this on your hook?

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This is a _Hippocampus_, or sea-horse. He is a little fellow, only a few inches in length, but he is certainly a curiosity. With a head and neck very much like those of a horse, he seems to take pleasure in keeping himself in such a position as will enable him to imitate a high mettled charger to the greatest advantage. He curves his neck and holds up his head in a manner which few horses adopt, unless they are reined up very tightly. I have seen these little fellows in aquariums, and have always regarded them as the most interesting of fishes.

But although it is by no means probable that any of us will ever catch a sea-horse, we might get even stranger fish upon our hooks. If we had a very large hook, a long and strong line, and a tempting bait, it is just possible, if we were to go to exactly the right spot, and had extraordinary good fortune, that we might catch such a beauty as this.

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This fellow you will probably recognize as the Cuttle-fish. Some persons call it the Devil-fish, but the name is misapplied. The Devil-fish is a different kind of a sea monster. But the Cuttle-fish is bad enough to have the very worst name that could be bestowed upon him. Those great arms, which sometimes grow to a length of several feet, he uses to wrap around his prey, and they are strong and tough.

He has two eyes and a little mouth, and is about as pugnacious a fish as is to be found anywhere. If I should ever haul a Cuttle-fish into my boat, I think I should feel very much like getting out, no matter how deep the water might be.

There was once a sea captain, who was walking on a beach with some of his men, when he spied one of these Cuttle-fish, travelling over the sand towards the water. He thought it would be a fine thing to capture such a strange fish, and he ran after it, and caught hold of one of its legs. But he soon wished that it had got away from him, for the horrid creature turned on him, and wrapped several of its long arms or legs--whichever they may be--around him, and the poor captain soon began to fear that he himself would not be able to escape.

Nothing that he could do would loosen the hold of the monster upon him, and if it had not been for a sailor who ran up with a hatchet and cut the limbs of the Cuttle-fish from its body, the poor captain might have perished in the embrace of this most disagreeable of all fishes.

There are a great many stories told of this fish, and it is very probable that all the worst ones are true. Canary birds are very fond of pecking at the bones taken from small Cuttle-fish, and India-ink is made from a black substance that it secretes, but I would rather do without canary birds altogether, and never use India-ink, than to be obliged to catch my own Cuttle-fish.

But while we are hauling strange things up from the deep, suppose we take something that is not exactly a fish, but which is alive and lives in the water. What do you think of a living thing like this?

This is a polypier, and its particular name is the _fungia_ being so called because it resembles a vegetable fungus. The animal lives inside of that circular sh.e.l.l, which is formed something like the under side of a toad-stool. Between the thin plates, or leaves, the polypier thrusts out its arms with little suckers at the ends. With these it seizes its food and conveys it to its mouth, which is situated at the centre of its body.

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But there are more strange fish in the sea than we can ever mention, and the strange fish are by no means the most profitable. Still there is a pleasure in fishing, no matter what we pull up.

The greatest fishers in the world are fish. The Whale will catch, in the course of a day, enough herring to last a family for many years, and in all the rivers and oceans and lakes, fishing is going on so constantly and extensively that the efforts of man in that direction seem ridiculous, by contrast.

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The Tunny, a large fish, measuring from two to five feet in ordinary length, is a great fisher. He, like the Whale, is fond of herrings, and he likes them fresh, not salt, smoked, or pickled. Often, when the fishermen are busy in their boats, setting their nets for herring, a troupe of Tunnies will come along, and chase the herring in every direction, swallowing every unfortunate fellow that they can catch.

Some of the fishers that live in the sea are terrible fellows, and are by no means content with such small game as herring. The Sword-fish, for instance, always appears to prefer large victims, and he has such strong tastes of that kind, that he has been known to attack ships, driving his long sword clean through the bottom of the vessel. But he generally comes off second best on such occasions, for his sword is very often broken off and left sticking fast in the thick hull.

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The Sword-fish has a better chance when he attacks a Whale, and this he has often been known to do. The Whale could probably kill the Sword-fish, if he could get one good crack at him, but the smaller fish is generally active enough to keep out of the way of harm, while he drives his sword into the Whale again and again, until the great creature often perishes from loss of blood.

The Shark, as you all know, is the most ferocious and dangerous of all the fishers in the sea. He considers anything suitable for a meal which will go into his mouth; he will eagerly snap at a man, a mouse, or even a tin coffee-pot, or a band-box. So savage and relentless is this "tiger of the sea" as he is sometimes called, that it is gratifying to think that he occasionally goes out fishing and gets caught himself. Many instances have been related of natives of the Pacific Islands, who are accustomed to bathe so much in the ocean that they swim almost like fishes themselves, who have successfully given battle to Sharks which have pursued them. The Shark is unable, from the peculiar formation of his mouth, to seize the man, unless he can turn partially over. Therefore the man takes care to keep below the Shark, and a few stabs with his long knife are generally sufficient to finish the combat, and to slay the monster.

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Still, although it appears so easy to kill a Shark in this way, I think it will generally be found preferable to try for some other kind of fish.

Let others go seek the Shark, the Sword-fish, or the squirming Cuttle-fish. Give us the humble Perch and the tender Trout. Don't you say so?

EAGLES AND LITTLE GIRLS.