Songs for September

Bed in Summer

Tom the Water-Baby

For the first time in his life, Tom felt how comfortable it was to have nothing on him. He was very happy in the water. He had nothing to do now but enjoy himself, and look at all the pretty things in the water-world, where the sun is never too hot and the frost is never too cold.

Sometimes he swam along, looking at the crickets which ran in and out over the stones. Sometimes he climbed over the rocks and watched the sandpipers running about. Then sometimes he came to a water-forest. There in the water-forest he saw the water-monkeys and water-squirrels with six legs. Almost every thing in the water has six legs except elves and water-babies.

There were water-flowers too, and Tom saw that they were alive and busy. He soon learned to understand them and talk to them. He might have had very pleasant company if he only had been a good boy. But he pecked the poor water-things about till they were afraid of him, and got out of his way or crept into their shells. So he had no one to speak to or to play with.

One day Tom came to a pool of little trout. He began teasing them and trying to catch them, but they slipped through his fingers and jumped clear out of the water in their fright. As Tom chased them he came close to a great dark hole. Out jumped a creature with six legs, a big stomach, and a big head, with two great eyes and a face like a donkey's.

"Oh," said Tom, "you are an ugly fellow," and he began making faces at it. He put his nose close to it and shouted at it. Then the donkey-face came off and out popped a long arm, with a pair of pincers at the end of it, and caught Tom by the nose. It did not hurt him much, but it held him tight.

"Oh, let me go!" cried Tom.

"Then let me go," said the creature. "I want to be quiet. I want to split."

Tom promised to let it go. "But why do you want to split?" he asked.

"Because my brothers and sisters have all split and turned into beautiful creatures with wings. I want to split, too. Don't speak to me. I am sure I shall split. I will split."

Then the creature swelled and puffed, and stretched out stiff, and at last split down the back, and then up to its head. Out came the most slender soft creature, but it was very pale and weak. It moved its legs feebly and looked about. Then it began walking slowly up a grass stem to the top of the water.

Tom stared with all his eyes. Then he went up to the top of the water and peeped out to see what would happen. As the creature sat in the warm bright sun, a wonderful change came over it. It grew strong and firm. The most lovely colors began to show on its body, blue and yellow and black, spots and bars and rings. From its back rose four great wings of bright gauze. Its eyes grew so large that they filled all its head and shone like diamonds.

"Oh, you beautiful creature!" said Tom, and he put out his hand to catch it. But the thing flew up in the air and then settled down again on Tom, quite fearlessly.

"You cannot catch me," it said. "I am a dragon-fly now. I am the king of all the flies. I shall dance in the sunshine and catch gnats." And he flew away into the air.

"Oh! Come back, come back," cried Tom, "you beautiful creature! I have no one to play with and I am so lonely here. If you will come back I will never try to catch you," and Tom wished that he could change his skin and have wings.

One day Tom had a new adventure. He was sitting on a water-leaf with his friend the dragon-fly, watching the gnats dance. The dragon-fly had eaten as many as he wanted and was sitting quite still and sleepy, for it was hot and bright.

Suddenly Tom heard the strangest noise up the stream. He took a neat little header into the water and started off to see what it was. When he came near, he saw four or five beautiful creatures. They were many times larger than Tom and were swimming about, rolling and diving in the most charming way.

When the biggest one saw Tom, she cried, "Quick, children! Here is something to eat." She came to poor Tom and looked at him with such wicked eyes that he slipped down between the water-lily roots as fast as he could. Then he turned round and made faces at her.

"Come out," said the wicked old otter, "or it will be worse for you."

But Tom looked at her from between two thick roots and shook them with all his might, making faces all the time.

"Come away, children," said the otter, "it is not worth eating. It is only an elf; we do not eat elves."

"I am not an elf!" said Tom.

"I say you are an elf, and therefore you are, and not good food for me and my children. You may stay there till the salmon eat you."

"What are salmon?" asked Tom.

"Fish, nice fish to eat. They are the lords of the fish, and we are the lords of the salmon," and she laughed again. "We hunt them up and down the pools and drive them into a corner. They bully the little trout and the minnows till they see us coming. Then they are afraid and we catch them."

"And where do the salmon come from?" asked Tom, for it was all very strange to him.

"They come out of the sea, the great wide sea, where they might stay and be safe if they would. But out of the sea the silly things come into the river, and we come up to watch for them."

Then the otter swam away and Tom saw her no more for that time. But he kept thinking of what the otter had said about the great river and the sea, and he longed to go to see them. He thought about it all day.

Suddenly it grew dark. Tom looked up and saw black clouds above his head. He did not feel frightened but he kept quiet, for everything was still. There was not a whisper of wind, nor a chirp of a bird to be heard. Next a few drops of rain fell into the water, and one hit Tom on the nose and made him pop his head down.

Then the thunder roared and the lightning flashed from cloud to cloud. Tom looked up through the water and thought it was the finest thing that he had ever seen. But out of the water he dared not put his head, for the rain came down so hard. Tom could hardly stand against the stream, so he hid behind a rock.

Then the otter came sweeping along. She saw Tom and said, "Now is the time, elf, if you want to see the world. Come along, children. We shall breakfast on salmon tomorrow. Down to the sea, down to the sea!"

Then came a flash of lightning brighter than all the rest. By the light of it Tom saw three beautiful little babies with their arms around one another floating down the stream. They sang, "Down to the sea, down to the sea!"

"Wait for me!" cried Tom, but they were gone. Yet he could hear them singing, "Down to the sea."

"Down to the sea!" said Tom. "Everything is going to the sea, and I will go too."

So down the rushing stream went Tom, past sleeping villages, under dark bridges, and away to the sea. After a while he came to a place where the river spread out, and there he stopped. "This must be the sea," he thought. "I will stop here and look out for the otter or the eels or someone to tell me where to go."

So he went back a little way and crept into the crack of a rock. There he waited and slept, for he was tired with his journey. When he awoke the stream was clear. After awhile, he saw a sight which made him jump. It was a fish ten times as big as the biggest trout. Such a fish!—shining silver from head to tail, with here and there a crimson dot, with a hooked nose and a great bright eye. It looked around as proudly as a king. "Surely he must be the salmon, the king of all the fish," thought Tom.

Tom was frightened, but the salmon looked him full in the face and then went on. With a swish or two of its tail the salmon made the stream boil. In a few minutes another came, and then four or five, and so on. They all passed Tom, now and then leaping out of the water and over a rock. At last one bigger than all the rest came up. He looked at Tom and said, "What do you want here?"

"Oh, don't hurt me!" cried Tom. "I only want to look at you. You are so handsome."

"Ah!" said the salmon, "I see what you are, my little dear. I have met one or two creatures like you before and I have found them kind and well-behaved."

"So you have seen things like me before?" asked Tom.

"Several times, my dear. Indeed, it was only last night that one came and warned me of some new nets in the stream."

"So there are babies in the sea?" cried Tom, and he clapped his hands. "Then I shall have some one to play with me there?"

"Were there no babies up the stream?" asked the salmon.

"No," said Tom, "I thought I saw three last night; but they went down to the sea. So I went too, for I had nothing to play with but dragon-flies."

Then Tom told the salmon about the wicked otter and warned him to watch out. Soon the salmon went on up the river and Tom went slowly along the shore, led by the fairies whom he never saw. On and on he went.

All at once the water, which had been fresh, turned salt all round him. Then there came a change over Tom. He felt strong and light and fresh. He gave three skips out of the water a yard high, head over heels, just as the salmon do when they first touch the salt water.

A red buoy was dancing in the open sea, and to the buoy Tom went. He passed great shoals of bass and mullet, rushing after the shrimps. Once he passed a great black seal, who was coming in after the mullet. The seal put his head and shoulders out of the water and stared at Tom, looking like a fat old man with a gray head. Instead of being frightened, Tom said, "How do you do, sir? What a beautiful place the sea is!"

The old seal looked at him with his soft, sleepy eyes and said, "Good-tide to you, my little man. Are you looking for your brothers and sisters? I passed them all at play outside."

"Oh," said Tom, "then I shall have play-fellows at last!" and he swam to the buoy, and got upon it, and looked around for water-babies. Sometimes he thought he saw them at the bottom of the sea, but it was only the pink and white shells. Once he was sure he had found one, for he saw two bright eyes peeping out of the sand. So he dived down and began to scrape the sand away. "Don't hide," he cried, "I do want some one to play with me."

To have come all this way and yet to find no water-babies! It did seem hard. So Tom sat down on the bottom of the sea and cried salt tears.

For days and weeks Tom sat upon the buoy, looking out to sea, and wondering when the water-babies would come back. Yet they never came. He began to ask all the strange things that came from the sea if they had seen any water-babies. Some said, "Yes," and some said nothing at all.

There came a fleet of purple sea-snails floating along, each on a sponge full of foam. Tom said, "Where do you come from, you pretty creatures? Have you seen the water-babies?"

The sea-snails answered, "Yes, we have seen the water-babies. We have seen many strange things as we sailed along." And they floated away.

Then there came some porpoises, rolling as they went—papas and mammas, and little children—all smooth and shiny. Tom spoke to them. All they answered was, "Hush, hush, hush!" for that was all they had learned to say.

Then there came some sharks, many of them as long as a boat, and Tom was frightened. But they were lazy, good-natured fellows. They came and rubbed their great sides against the buoy, and lay in the sun with their back fins out of the water and winked at Tom, but he never could get them to speak.

Next there came a beautiful creature like a ribbon of pure silver, with a sharp head and long teeth, but it seemed sick and sad.

"I have come north from the warm sand banks," it said. "I met some ice-bergs in the ocean. I was caught among them and chilled. But the water-babies helped me and set me free. Now I am getting better every day."

"Oh!" cried Tom, "you have seen the water-babies? Have you seen any near here?"

"Yes, they helped me again last night or I should have been eaten by a great black porpoise."

Tom now left the buoy and went along the sands and round the rocks and cried and called for the water-babies, but he heard no voice in return. At last, with his fretting and crying, he grew quite lean and thin.

One day among the rocks he found a play-fellow. It was not a water-baby. It was a lobster. Tom had never seen a lobster before and he was greatly taken with this one. The lobster had one claw knobbed and the other jagged. He held on to the seaweed with his knobbed claw, while he cut up salads with his jagged one. Then he put them into his mouth, after smelling at them like a monkey.

If he wanted to go into a narrow crack ten yards off, what do you think he did? He turned his tail to it and laid his long horns straight down his back to guide him, and away he went, pop, into the hole. Then he peeped out and twiddled his whiskers as much as to say, "You couldn't do that."

Tom asked the lobster about the water-babies. "Yes," he said, "I have seen them often but I do not think much of them. They are meddlesome little creatures that go about helping fish and shells. For my part, I would be ashamed to be helped by little soft creatures that have not even a shell on their backs."

The lobster was a surly old fellow and not very civil to Tom. But he was so funny, and Tom was so lonely, that they did not quarrel. They used to sit in holes in the rocks and chat for hours.

One day, when Tom was going along the rocks, he saw a round cage. In it sat his friend the lobster twiddling his horns and looking very much ashamed of himself.

"Have you been naughty, and have they put you into the lock-up?" asked Tom.

"I can't get out," said the lobster.

"Why did you get in?"

"After that piece of dead fish."

"Where did you get in?"

"Through the round hole at the top."

"Then why don't you get out through it?"

"Because I can't. I have jumped upward, and downward, and backward, and sideways, at least four thousand times. I can't get out. I can't find the hole." And the lobster twiddled his horns and looked at Tom.

Tom looked at the trap and, having more wit than the lobster, he saw what was the matter. "Stop a bit," said Tom. "Turn your tail up to me, and I will pull you through hind foremost. Then you won't stick in the spikes." But the lobster was so clumsy that he could not find the hole.

Tom reached in till he caught hold of him, and then the lobster pulled Tom in head first.

"Hello! here is a pretty business," said Tom. "Now take your great claws and break the points off the spikes. Then we shall both get out easily."

"Dear me, I never thought of that!" said the lobster. But they had not broken half the spikes when they saw a dark cloud over them. It was the otter.

How she did grin and grin when she saw Tom. "You little meddlesome wretch, I have you now! I will punish you for telling the salmon where I was," said she, and she crawled all over the pot to get in.

Tom was frightened when the otter found the hole in the top and squeezed through it. But no sooner was her head inside than the lobster caught her by the nose and held on.

There they were, all three in the pot, rolling over and over, and very tight packing it was. The lobster tore at the otter, and the otter tore at the lobster, and both squeezed and thumped poor Tom till he had no breath left in his body. I don't know what would have happened to him if he had not at last got on the lobster's back and out of the hole.

He was glad when he got out, but he would not desert his friend. The first time he saw the lobster's tail uppermost he caught hold of it and pulled with all his might. But the lobster would not let go of the otter.

"Come along," said Tom, "don't you see she is dead?"

But the lobster would not let go.

"Come along, or the fisherman will catch you!" and that was true, for Tom felt someone hauling up the pot. But still the lobster would not let go of the otter. Tom saw the fisherman haul the lobster to the side of the boat, and thought it was all up with him. But when the lobster saw the fisherman, he gave a furious snap, and slipped out of his hand and out of the pot and safe into the sea; but he left his knobbed claw behind him.

And now a most wonderful thing happened to Tom. He had not left the lobster five minutes before he came upon a water-baby. It was a real live water-baby sitting on the sand. Now, was it not strange that Tom could never find a water-baby till after he had helped the lobster?

When the water-baby saw Tom, it looked up for a moment and then cried, "Why, you are not one of us! You are a new baby." It ran to Tom, and Tom ran to it, and they hugged and kissed each other for ever so long.

At last Tom said, "Oh, where have you been all this while? I have been looking for you so long, and I have been so lonely."

"We have been here for days and days. There are hundreds of us among the rocks. How was it you did not see us or hear us? We sing and romp every evening before we go home."

Tom looked at the baby again and then he said, "Well, this is wonderful! I have seen things just like you again and again, but I thought you were shells or sea creatures. I never thought you were water-babies like myself."

Then Tom heard the other babies coming, laughing and singing and shouting and romping. The noise they made was just like the noise of the ripples. So he knew that he had been hearing and seeing the water-babies all the time, only he did not know them because his eyes and ears were not opened.

When the tide began to turn, in came the water-babies. Some were bigger and some were smaller than Tom, all in the neatest little white bathing dresses. When they found that Tom was a new baby, they put him in the middle and danced around him on the sand. Little Tom was as happy as he could be.

"We have mended all the broken sea-weed, and put all the rocks in order, and planted all the shells again in the sand. Nobody will see where the ugly storm swept in last week. And now," they all cried at once, "we must come away home! We must come away home!"