"Suddenly down he dropped into the water, with a rush that fairly took my breath away, and, after splashing about furiously for a few seconds, returned to land, having a small fish in his beak.
"'Ha, ha!' laughed the Kingfisher, 'I've got you at last. Yes, and there is plenty of room left for some of your plump brothers and sisters besides.'
"So saying, he tossed the poor fish up in the air; then, opening wide his beak, caught and swallowed it with great apparent relish. I was very much amused by all this; so I said, as he settled upon the perch once more,—
"'Well, well, we spiders are considered terrible butchers by most people, but we are rather more dainty than to gulp down our meals in that fashion. I hope you may not suffer from an indigestion, Mr. Kingfisher.'
"'Do not worry over that,' returned he, cocking his bright eye at me. Then he flew away, and I scrambled after him as fast as I could, for I was curious to see how Madame Kingfisher and the babies fared.
"I followed the flight of the bird until he disappeared on the ground somewhere, and I arrived just in time to see him pop into a hole on the water side of the bank. I crept into the tunnel, which was originally made by a tiny animal, the water-shrew, and which had been enlarged by the Kingfisher to suit the size of the nest. This nest, my dear friends, I found to be composed of dried fish-bones,—mostly those of minnows,—and arranged in a nearly flat form, save a slight hollow pressed by the bird's shape while laying eggs."
"Oh, oh!" spurted the incredulous Saucepan, "that is a worse fib than the account of the bird spider."
"Very wonderful, indeed," bubbled the Kettle, who had not ventured to speak since he scalded the company.
"I could tell you stranger things than that," said the Wasp, hopping out upon the hearth nimbly as the Kettle swung.
"One at a time, if you please," interposed the Cricket, restoring order.