off on a race over the surface of the pond
to see which would get the little white fly; and so busy were they that
they forgot all about the great heron, and went up close to him,
splashing him all over with the bright sparkling water.

"Take that, you ugly little downy dab," said the heron in a pet. "Do
you think I came here to be made a water-mop of? Get out with you! see
how you've wetted my waistcoat. Take that!"

And the poor little duckling did take _that_, and scampered off to its
mother, crying out in such a pitiful voice, "Wheedle-wheedle-wheedle,"
that the heron forgot his ill-humour and burst out laughing, and felt
quite sorry that he had given poor little Yellow-down such a cruel poke
in its back with his long sharp beak.

"Serve it right, though," said the heron; "coming splashing, and
dashing, and sending the water all over a sedate, quiet gentleman,
quietly fishing by the side of a pond! And a nice pond it seems too,
with plenty of fish in it. It strikes me I shall often come here."

Just then Bluescrags made a poke at a fish, and caught it in his long
bill, and gobbled it up in no time. But he was not to enjoy himself
long, for the duck was telling all her neighbours about the ill-usage
her little one had received; and the mischief-making little wagtail
thought as he had seen the lanky bird eating what he called the
kingfisher's fishes, he would go and tell, and then sit on the bank and
see the quarrel there would be; for he considered that the heron had no
more business to take the fish out of the pond than the toad had to
catch flies. So he ran to the blue bird's hole, and sticking in his
little thin body, he ran up it to the nest, shouting, "Neighbour,
neighbour; thieves, thieves!"

"Where, where?" said Ogrebones the kingfisher.

"Here; running away with your fish by the dozen," said the wagtail.

"Well, get out of the way," said the kingfisher, bustling out of the
nest and going towards the mouth of the hole. "There, do make haste."

But the wagtail couldn't make haste, for his tail was so long he could
not turn round in the hole, and so had to walk backwards the best way he
could, with the points of his tail-feathers catching against the wall
and sending him forwards upon his beak, and making the old kingfisher so
crabby, that at last he gave the poor wagtail a dig with his heavy beak
that made him cry out, "Peek-peek-peek."

"Then why don't you get out of the way, when all one's f