"And she hasn't got a decent suit of scales to her back," chimed in the next to the youngest Pickerel.
"She actually eats mud," said Baby Pickerel. "I saw her do it only the other day. When she noticed that I saw her, she looked ashamed and sneaked away."
"I am very glad to hear that she is not lost to all sense of shame," said Miss Pickerel, with a toss of her head.
"For my part," said one of the little Pickerels who had not yet spoken, "I'd about as lief be a low-bred catfish as a greedy, quarrelsome pike."
"S-s-s-h!" said Miss Pickerel, warningly, "the Pikes are our relations."
"I don't care if they are. Uncle Pike is perfectly disgraceful. He snatches the fattest tadpoles and gulps them down at a single mouthful before any one else has a chance at them. He has the most enormous appetite. It's unnatural, too, I'm sure. Yesterday I saw him sneaking about after Baby. Do you know, I have an idea he could tell what became of little Cousin Bass last summer. It made me shudder to see him watching Baby with his big, greedy eyes. I went and told Grandfather, and they had some warm words about it."
As they listened to this gruesome tale, the other little pickerels turned pale and were silent. They did not recover their accustomed spirits until Aunt Bass bustled in among them, giving each a pat with her gentle fin. She was closely followed by Uncle Pike, who was driving before him Big Brother Pickerel and Miss Catfish. Big Brother Pickerel kept a protecting fin spread above Miss Catfish, and his bold features bore an expression of defiance. Miss Catfish was pale and trembling.
