"Show me something," she said, languidly.
"Look at the beautiful white flower down below there," said he. "See how charmingly he rises above the water. He surely can be neither a robber nor a cut-throat."
It was really a beautiful white flower that grew up from the bottom of the pond on a long, thin stalk and looked exceedingly sweet and innocent. Mrs. Reed-Warbler glanced at him kindly:
"What's your name, you pretty flower?" she asked. "May I look at you a little?"
"Look as much as you please," replied the flower. "My name's Bladder-Wort, and I have no time to waste in talking to you. I have things to attend to and must hurry."
Mrs. Reed-Warbler stretched her neck and peeped down into the water.
"That horrid spider has her nest between his leaves," she said.
"Well, the bladder-wort can't help that," replied her husband. "It's a flower's fate to stand where he stands and take things as they come. He sucks his food calmly out of the ground, has no stains on his flowers, and no blood on his leaves. That's what makes him so poetic and so refined."
"Hush!" she said. "They are talking together."