"'After hearing this, I made the offer in your name, and received a favorable reply. You are to get two pounds of sea-weed in less than a fortnight. It is to be laid on the large flat rock which you will see lower down the stream, under the chestnut-tree. You are to leave it there, and by no means to remain there, but return here, and your reward will await you.' "Arthur thanked the little bird warmly, but inwardly despaired of accomplishing anything so difficult. "The little bird hopped restlessly about. 'You will try to do this, will you not?' she asked. "'Of course I will try,' said Arthur, rather ashamed, and striving to put a bold face on the matter. 'I will try, but I do not know exactly what to do first.' "'Streams run into rivers, and rivers to the sea,' twittered the bird. "'Yes; but I hardly think frogs swim in deep water. I will have to contrive a boat or a float of some sort.' "Just then a huge trout sprang up after a fly and missed it. Quick as a flash the little bird darted up, caught the fly, dropped it into the trout's open mouth, and twittered something unintelligible to Arthur. He heard, however, a curious sound of words from the trout. "'Jump on my back, jump on my back, and be off, alack!' "'Go,' said the bird, quickly. "Arthur made a bound, and found himself on Mr. Specklesides's back in an instant. "'Good-bye,' sang the little bird, loudly, for already the trout had flashed away into a dark pool beneath a cascade, where the falling waters made a deafening noise. In another instant he made another dart, and quick as lightning they were in broad, shallow water. Again they were whirled from eddy to eddy, and already the stream had widened into a little river. The bending trees, the weeds, and grasses, were mirrored in its cool depths, as now with long, steady stroke the trout swam on. "Suddenly another shape darkened the glassy surface of the water. It was the figure of a man in slouched hat and high boots, and long tapering rod in hand. He seemed to be quite motionless, but far out near the middle of the stream, just where the trout was swimming, danced a brilliant fly. A leap, a dash, and then began such a whirling mad rush through the water that Arthur knew he would be overthrown. The trout had seized the fly, and the fisherman, rapidly unreeling his line, waited for the fish to exhaust himself. Before this was done, however, Arthur was thrown violently off the trout's back, and by dint of desperate efforts reached the shore, where for a long while he lay motionless. "When he revived he found himself in long sedgy grass, well shielded from observation. The trout was nowhere to be seen, and Arthur knew that it was idle to search for him. Poor fellow! his fate had found him, and no doubt he was lying quietly enough now in the fisherman's basket. "'"Streams run into rivers, and rivers to the sea," and I must look for some other method than the trout's back.'