And they looked into her great, deep, soft eyes, and they changed again and again into every hue, as the light changes in a diamond. “Now read my name,” said she, at last. And her eyes flashed, for one moment, clear, white, blazing light: but the children could not read her name; for they were dazzled, and hid their faces in their hands. “Not yet, young things, not yet,” said she, smiling; and then she turned to Ellie. “You may take him home with you now on Sundays, Ellie. He has won his spurs in the great battle, and become fit to go with you and be a man; because he has done the thing he did not like.” So Tom went home with Ellie on Sundays, and sometimes on week-days, too; and he is now a great man of science, and can plan railroads, and steam-engines, and electric telegraphs, and rifled guns, and so forth; and knows everything about everything, except why a hen’s egg don’t turn into a crocodile, and two or three other little things which no one will know till the coming of the Cocqcigrues. And all this from what he learnt when he was a water-baby, underneath the sea. “And of course Tom married Ellie?” My dear child, what a silly notion! Don’t you know that no one ever marries in a fairy tale, under the rank of a prince or a princess? “And Tom’s dog?” Oh, you may see him any clear night in July; for the old dog-star was so worn out by the last three hot summers that there have been no dog-days since; so that they had to take him down and put Tom’s dog up in his place. Therefore, as new brooms sweep clean, we may hope for some warm weather this year. And that is the end of my story. MORAL. _And now_, _my dear little man_, _what should we learn from this parable_? _We should learn thirty-seven or thirty-nine things_, _I am not exactly sure which_: _but one thing_, _at least_, _we may learn_, _and that is this—when we see efts in the pond_, _never to throw stones at them_, _or catch them with crooked pins_, _or put them into vivariums with sticklebacks_, _that the sticklebacks may prick them in their poor little stomachs_, _and make them jump out of the glass into somebody’s work-box_, _and so come to a bad end_. _For these efts are nothing else but the water-babies who are stupid and dirty_, _and will not learn their lessons and keep themselves clean_; _and_, _therefore_ (_as comparative anatomists will tell you fifty years hence_, _though they are not learned enough to tell you now_), _their skulls grow flat_, _their jaws grow out_, _and their brains grow small_, _and their tails grow long_, _and they lose all their ribs_ (_which I am sure you would not like to do_), _and their skins grow dirty and spotted_, _and they never get into the clear rivers_, _much less into the great wide sea_, _but hang about in dirty ponds_, _and live in the mud_, _and eat worms_, _as they deserve to do_.