"But what a pity! She is certainly losing her beautiful shape," they remarked to one another as they swam away. "And that eye is a most mysterious business." They came back again a day or two later. Fanny--could it be Fanny?--was on the sand. She wriggled up to meet them, and they stared more and more. She was not now long and slim, but flat and wide. And her eye! It had gone quite round the corner, and was now on the same side of her head as her right eye. Strange to say, she looked perfectly happy. "I am well again," she said. "See, my eye has gone round out of the way, and I am so flat that I can lie comfortably on this nice sea-floor. Isn't it splendid?" "It is a very ugly change," said one. "Oh, dear, do you think so?" asked poor Fanny. "At any rate, the change is most convenient," she went on, brightening. "See--one lies on the sand, so. One's flatness allows one to wriggle partly under the sand, so as to escape one's enemies; and one's eyes are both on top, where they are most needed. You had better come down and grow flat, too." "Not for the world!" cried the others in chorus. "What a life, lying in the sand! And what an ugly shape! Are you going to stay here always?" "Yes," said Fanny. "The food here suits me." "Good-bye, then. We are off to the top," they said. As they swam away one impudent little creature turned round and called: "Good-bye, Fanny Flatface!" That is how poor Fanny got the name. "How are you to-day, Fanny Flatface?" the thoughtless little fishes would call as they swam over her head. They thought it a clever thing to say. She would bury herself in the sand and pretend not to hear, but it made her most unhappy. She thought of all the other fishes she had seen. "None of them are flat," she said, "and none of them have two eyes on one side of the head. How dreadful I must look!" Lonely and miserable, she lay there for months, keeping herself well hidden from sight. One day she left the spot, hardly knowing why, and floated with the tide into the estuary mouth. A sunny shallow seemed to draw her with the memory of early days. She swam boldly in. Yes, this was her old first home. What had become of her brothers and sisters? Would they receive her, now that she had changed so terribly? The mud floor moved, and scores of flounders raised themselves and looked at her. Flat! As flat as herself! And each with two eyes on one side of the head. What comfort! She was no monstrosity, after all. "Who are you?" they asked. "Fanny," she replied. They all came out to look at her. "Why, it really is Fanny!" they exclaimed. "But how you have grown! How bright your red spots are! And how softly silvered is your under-side! How white and strong your teeth! You are certainly the beauty of the family. Have you come to live with us?" "Yes, oh yes," she answered joyfully. What happiness was hers, after the long months of shame and loneliness!