And talk together they did, with a vengeance.
"Have you caught anything?" asked the bladder-wort.
"Indeed I have," replied the water-spider. "I don't go to bed fasting. This is a good time of year for water-mites, and so I don't complain. And how have you done?"
"Nicely, thank you," said the bladder-wort. "I have caught a hundred and fifty midge-grubs and forty carp-spawn this afternoon. But I'm not satisfied. I don't believe I could ever be satisfied."
"What's that he's saying!" whispered little Mrs. Reed-Warbler, and looked at her husband in dismay.
"Be quiet," he said. "Let us hear more."
The spider went into her parlour, hung seven eggs from the ceiling, swallowed a mouthful of air and came out again.
"You're really a terrible robber," she said. "If it wasn't that I had come to lodge with you, I should be furious with you. Why, you take the bread out of my mouth!"
"Nonsense!" said the bladder-wort. "Surely there's plenty for the two of us! I am quite pleased to have a lodger who drives the same trade as myself. It gives one something to talk about."
"It's really odd that a flower like yourself should have turned robber," said the spider. "It's not in your nature, generally speaking."