A Kingfisher sat on the edge of a boat that a young man had prepared for a fishing expedition. A box of bait and a bucket to hold the fish were on one of the benches, whilst a fishing-rod lay across the boat, and its long line had a float at the end of it.
"What a shame it is!" said the Kingfisher, casting his eye upon the float. "Why should this man be taking fish from this part of the river, close by the spot where I have built my nest? And what a preparation he has made! Hooks, and all kinds of cruelty are known to him. I should be very sorry to be a man with such a love for killing."
And the Kingfisher shook his head gravely, and looked into the water.
"Yes," said he, "fish are moving towards that decoy. What a number of them! I may as well make a pounce myself. Since the man has put it there, why shouldn't I take advantage of it."
So saying he gently rose and spread out his wings as softly as he could, but the movement scared the watchful fishes, who swam rapidly away towards the river-bank, whither the Kingfisher pursued them, perching on the bough of a tree and making a dart from it. He had almost succeeded in capturing one, but it escaped him. And then an old fish popping up her head for a minute said—
"People are very ready to condemn others for doing what they are constantly doing themselves. Here are you trying to catch us yourself and yet professing to be very angry with those who are wishing to do the same."
Thus saying she disappeared, leaving the Kingfisher to moralise upon her speech.
This he did, observing—
"There is something in what the fish says, and yet there's a difference between me and the young gentleman to whom the boat belongs. I am getting food for my family, whilst he is only amusing himself with angling for the fishes. His killing is sport, mine is necessity."
G.