"One doesn't die so easily as that," replied the mussel. "Unless an accident befalls one, as in the case of our poor carp. In fact, I once lay for a whole year on a table in a room." "Goodness gracious!" said the reed-warbler. "How did you get there?" "I was fished up by a student or somebody. He wrapped me in a piece of paper and put me on the table. He wanted to see how long I could live. Every Saturday, he unpacked me and poured a little water over me; and that was enough to keep me alive." "But how did you escape from him?" "Well," said the mussel, "it was when he got engaged. People used to come and see him sometimes, you know, and, of course, they all had to look at the wonderful mussel that refused to die. There was a young girl among them who was very cross with him for teasing me so. But he only laughed at her. Well, when I had been there a year, he got engaged to her.... They were sitting on the sofa just by me, when it happened, and I was not so dead but that I could lift my shells a little and see the whole thing: they're funny creatures, those human beings! Well, then he asked her if there was anything she would like on that joyful day. Yes, she would like me to be put back in the water again. He laughed at her. But off they went with me to the very pond where I was fished up and threw me in. Then I settled down among the other fellows and began all over again." "Yes ... love!" said the reed-warbler, looking round at his wife. "Ah ... love!" said she, returning his glance. "I have nothing to say against it," said the mussel. "But, as a matter of fact, I have no personal experience of it." "Surely you have a wife," said the reed-warbler. "Or, perhaps ... perhaps you are a lady ...?" "I am neither one or the other. I am just a mussel. And I lay my eggs and then that's done!" "Do you look after your children nicely?" asked the reed-warbler. "What next!" exclaimed the mussel. "My children are very remarkable individuals. They are sailors." "Sailors?" "Yes, they are indeed. As soon as they come out of the egg, they hoist a great sail and put out. It's only when they grow older, if they haven't been eaten by that time, that they settle down as decent mussels with shells upon them and philosophy in their constitutions." "Don't let us talk about children," said the reed-warbler. "It always upsets my wife so. Tell us now how you found your way to this pond." "Ah," said the mussel, "that comes of a peculiarity I possess of becoming furious when any one sticks something between my shells. I don't know if I told you that I possess that peculiarity?" "You've told me several times," answered the reed-warbler. "I shall never forget it; I shall take care, be sure of that." "Mind you do," said the mussel. "You know, it was one of your sort that managed my removal." "A reed-warbler?"