It would not hurt them, though.
We must be still; we must not say a word.
They never will play if they see us looking.
(Oswald points down into the spring.)
That little green thing? That's a beech-nut burr.
I threw it in to scare the water-sprite
That looked up at you when you stooped to drink.
You did not see her? Oh, I did. I peeped
Like this, softly, over, over the edge,
And saw her peeping from the mossy stones
Down in the spring. Her hair was loose like mine
And brown as buckeyes, and her lips were stained
With juice of berries. Then I raised my hand.
Thinks I: "I'll drop a beech-nut on his head."
Then she raised hers as if to say: "Be still!
I'll make the bubbles break against his nose."
Was that what made you jump? You scared her so.
I saw her hair fly up about her face
As I leaped back. She lives down in the spring.
This morning as I passed I stooped and said:
"I'm going after berries; won't you come?"
She beckoned to me, too, and seemed to say:
"I can't leave home; my little fish will stray.
You come down here; I have some pretty shells."
Oh, look! Be still! She's let them come again.
See them flash.
Oswald— It's the green shell they're after.
Selma—Why, there's no kernel in it. If there were
They could not eat it; it would break their gills,
They are so very thin.
Oswald— We all do that;
We follow shells sometimes.
Selma— O Oswald, look!
See how the little silver bubbles rise.
Oswald—And we are like the fishes—
Selma— Oh, do look!
You are not thinking of the fishes. See!
They follow it through the dimples round and round,
Paddling the current with their little fins,
And poising. They're afraid. They're drawing back.
There, by the green stone.
Oswald— They are safer there
Than in the current.