oing out far on the point, we came upon a little shining
lake, surrounded by rocks, upon which we could sit, and dabble our
feet in the water. It was no place more than a foot deep, and we
decided to wade round in it. It was a comical sight to see us
navigating ourselves in procession through that water, but it was a
very questionable joke, when Milly Sayre jumped and screamed, and ran
like a frantic creature from the pool, and up the rocks.

"What's the matter, Milly," we cried. "Are you hurt? What did you
see?" we breathlessly shouted.

"Oh! oh!" was all she could gasp, pointing to a place she had just
left. We all scrambled out instantly, and peered over the rocks into
the water.

[Illustration: INSEPARABLE FRIENDS.]

What should we see but a little creature, grotesque and hideous, that
made its way round in the water, with astounding celerity, throwing
out legs or claws, or whatever they were, from every point of its
circumference. Its body was flat and was a green color above and pink
under, and to add to its alarming appearance, it looked at us with two
black eyes, in a very sinister and uncanny manner. We looked at each
other with blanched faces and speechless horror, and then kept a sharp
lookout, lest it might take it into its head (we couldn't tell if it
had any head, for the place where the eyes were, did not seem
different from any other part of its body,) take it into its "internal
consciousness," to crawl out on to the rocks and chase us. It got
through the water in a distracting manner, which was really quite
amusing after a few moments, and from being horribly frightened, we
became interested when we found it did not attempt the offensive. We
gave it some lunch and called it "Jack Deadeye," and for the whole
afternoon he was the center of attraction.

"Let us take him back with us," I proposed. "We can get him into a
pail, and then we can have him in some pool nearer home, and see what
he'll turn into. I don't believe but what he'll be something else in a
few days."

My knowledge of natural history had always been lamentably meager, and
more than once I had brought the laugh upon myself by my ignorance. So
I forbore to predict what would be his ultimate form of beauty.

"A whale!" said Susie Champney.

"Oh, dear, no; whales don't have legs and claws," said Estella Bascom.
"It's a tadpole."

"You're mistaken there," said Mamie Fitz Hugh; "tadpoles are just the
little jokers that do have tails.