"Where can one find a fly?" said her husband.
"We must take life as it is," said the mussel, "and meddle with it as little as possible. That's what I do; and there's nothing to prevent my remaining here and growing to be a hundred."
A boy stood on the edge of the pond. He had a big stone in his hand. Suddenly, he flung it into the water with all his might. Then he went on and thought no more about it.
But the stone had hit the mussel and smashed him to pieces.
"There!" he said. "That's the end of me. Both shells smashed ... there's nothing to be done. Good-bye and thank you for your pleasant company."
One by one all the eyes on his mantle grew dim; and then he was dead.
"Goodness knows who will be the next!" said the reed-warbler.
But Goody Cray-Fish came slowly crawling and took the dead mussel in her claws:
"Now I shall get my leg back with interest," said she.