went, and up he whisked his rod. "A fine fish," he
cried out; "but, hillo, it has legs--four legs, I declare! Why, it's a
monster; a terrible monster. Hillo! Ellis, Gregson, Buttar, come and
help me. Will it bite, I wonder?" Gregson ran laughing up to Bouldon
to see what was the matter.

"Why, it is a water-newt!" he exclaimed. "A harmless, curious little
creature--there, don't hurt it! It has not swallowed the hook. I'll
put it into my basket and take it home. It will live in a tub of water
for a long time. Look! it is something like a lizard, but it has a flat
tail made for swimming. What curious little feet and legs! Now, though
the newt has four legs, it lays eggs; and to guard them from injury,
wraps them up in the leaves of water plants, with its four paws. When
the young newt is hatched, it is very like a tadpole. It is like a
fish, for it breathes through gills; but as it increases in size the
gills go away and the front legs appear, and then the hind ones. In a
frog-tadpole the hind legs appear first, and then the front ones."

"Curious sort of fellows," observed Tom Bouldon, who had been listening
attentively to Gregson's account; "but, I say, I thought fellows, when
they grew bigger, took to gills instead of throwing them aside."

"Oh! Tommy, Tommy, what a pun!" was the general cry.

"What a good pun, or what a bad one?" asked Bouldon with perfect
simplicity. "But, I say, Gregson, are there any other fish but your
friends, the newts, in this pond, do you think? because if there are
not, I vote we move on."

"I never heard of any; but I wanted a newt, and so I proposed that we
should fish here."

On hearing this, there was a general proposal that he should be left
behind to catch newts by himself; but he promised faithfully to show
them where the best fish were to be caught, if they would forgive him.
On these conditions he very easily obtained pardon for his trick.

"I say, did you ever catch a fresh-water lobster?" asked Gregson. No
one had, and no one believed that there was such a thing. "I'll soon
show you one," said Gregson; and when they came to a shallow stream with
highish banks, pulled off his shoes and stockings, tucked up the sleeves
of his shirt and the legs of his trousers, and was soon busy feeling
under the banks, just below water.

"Why, he has got one; he has indeed!" shouted Bouldon, as Gregson
produced, by the antennae, a crayfish, which, to prevent himself from