"There's a stork passing over us with a May-baby in his beak," bubbled the Aisne.
"A good thing if he dropped it. Here I am very deep," quoth the Ourthe.
The Aisne, who was not deep at all, did not understand the quibble. "How very blue you are!" she gurgled. "What is the matter? Is it going to rain?"
"If it does, mind you keep to your bed," retorted the Ourthe sarcastically.
"I won't. I am coming into yours," plashed the Aisne; and did so.
"Oh! The Meuse take you!" grumbled the Ourthe foaming and swelling.
And they went on together, quarrelling all the way to Liège, where the Meuse took them both.
The stork flew across the bridge, and stopped over Dr. Brandès's house.
"Open your eyes, little human child," said the stork. "This is where you are born."