Then morning came and the sun shone and he sang to his little brown wife until she recovered her spirits. CHAPTER V The Bladder-Wort [Illustration] Little Mrs. Reed-Warbler's babies were now expected any day. There was no end to her nervousness and unreasonableness. Her husband simply could not satisfy her. If he brought her a fly, she shook her head and asked how could he think her capable of eating immediately before the most important event in her life. If he brought her none, she said it was evidently his intention to starve her. If he sang, it was unbearable to listen to him. If he was silent, she could plainly see that he no longer cared for her. "You don't appreciate me as I deserve," he said. "You ought to be married to the eel for a bit, or to the cray-fish's husband; then you would know what's what." "And you ought to have taken the spider," said she. "Then you would have been eaten." "Dear lady! Dear lady!" cried the cray-fish from down in the mud. "Well?" said the reed-warbler. "I can't stand this!" said Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "I only wanted to ask you, dear lady, not to forget me and those shells," said the cray-fish. "I won't have anything to do with an odious woman like you, who eats her own children," replied Mrs. Reed-Warbler. "Oh, dear!... Surely, ma'am, you don't believe that mean carp who was here the other day? A horrid, malicious fellow like that! He doesn't even belong to the pond, you know. He's a regular man's fish. They only put him here to fatten him up and eat him afterwards ... I saw it myself last year; he was a mere spawn then; now he has grown big and stout on men's food; and he has plenty of time, too, since he doesn't have to work like another; and so he runs round and slanders poor people and robs them of the sympathy of kind ladies like yourself." "Stop your chattering, Goody Cray-Fish," said the reed-warbler. "You'll drive my wife quite silly with your silly talk." "Oh, dear!... Well, I beg a thousand pardons," said the cray-fish. "I only want to remind the lady about the egg-shells." Then she went backwards into her hole. "Why will you think so much about all that rabble?" said the reed-warbler to his wife. "There are other things in the world besides cray-fish and eels and spiders. Find something pretty to look at. That would do you good just now." "Show me something," she said, languidly. "Look at the beautiful white flower down below there," said he. "See how charmingly he rises above the water. He surely can be neither a robber nor a cut-throat." It was really a beautiful white flower that grew up from the bottom of the pond on a long, thin stalk and looked exceedingly sweet and innocent. Mrs. Reed-Warbler glanced at him kindly: "What's your name, you pretty flower?" she asked. "May I look at you a little?" "Look as much as you please," replied the flower. "My name's Bladder-Wort, and I have no time to waste in talking to you. I have things to attend to and must hurry."