be agreeable to swallow the fly and let him land
me and put me in his basket.' The young Fisherman threw the line, and
the sun caught the glittering scales of the Fish at that moment. The
laziness vanished from the Fisherman, and he began to have a strong
desire to secure the Fish.

"He fished for some time, and the Fish swam backward and forward, making
up its mind. It saw the hook under the fly, but the attraction of the
Angler growing stronger and stronger, at last it deliberately decided to
come up and bite. 'I know all the emotions of swimming on the surface
and letting my scales shine in the sun,' it mused, 'but I know nothing
about the bank and the basket, and perhaps the tales that are drilled
into the heads of us Fish from infancy about suffocation and exhaustion
are not true.' And it mused again: 'He is a perfectly beautiful
Fisherman and looks kind, and I want to be closer to him and let him
touch my glittering scales. After all, one ought to know everything
before one dies.'

"So, its heart beating and its eyes melting, the Fish deliberately rose
to the surface and swallowed the fly. The hook caught in a gristly place
and did not hurt much, and the novel experience of being pulled onto the
green meadow delighted the Fish. It saw the Fisherman close, and felt
his hands as he tenderly disengaged the hook. He was full of joy and
pride at securing the difficult Fish and admired its scales. He talked
aloud and told it how bright he found it, and he was altogether charming
and delightful, and the Fish adored him and was glad it had been caught.

"Then after some time of this admiration and dalliance, the Fisherman
put it in the basket among the cool rushes. The Fish lay quiet, still
content. It had not yet begun to pant. For an hour almost the Fisherman
gloried in his catch. He opened the lid frequently and smiled at the
Fish.

"Then he lay down on the bank beside the basket and let his rod float
idly in the stream. The sun was warm and pleasant.

"'I wish,' he said to himself, 'after all, I had not secured the Fish
yet; the throwing of the fly and the excitement of trying to catch the
creature are better fun than having it safely landed and lying in the
basket,' and he yawned, and his eyes gradually closed and he slept.

"Now the Fish heard very plainly what he had said. Tell me, Damsel--you
who ask questions and answer them finally yourself--tell me, What did
the Fish do?"

The Damsel mused a moment. Sh