Bill the Minder

by W. Heath Robinson

'Thus she gabbled on, and thinking to myself, here, at last, is a kind-hearted soul, I asked her to promise to take the baby oyster back to its sorrowing mother, when she received it from the lobster. "What an extremely kind thought," she replied; "I assure you there is nothing in the whole world I would love to do so much as to take the little thing back to its Ma." Glancing dreamily at the sky the old eel continued:—"Dear little mite! I can see it even now, in my mind's eye, as it skips to its mother; she, dear soul, the while shedding pearls of delight,—a memory to carry to your grave. But I expect you must be going now—no doubt you are as busy as the rest of us—are they all well at home?—good-bye," and she prepared to return to the sea. "But, my dear woman," I protested, "I have not yet received your promise to see the little oyster home." "Now," said the eel, "pray don't spoil the pleasant evening we have had—but never mind—don't look so serious—come round some evening

with the wife and children—don't say you won't." "But, Madam," I answered, "I am waiting for your promise to see the little one home." "My dear Sir," she replied at last, growing rather red in the face, "I can give you nothing of the kind, and must really refer you to the whale who captured me a little while ago, and only released me because I promised to procure him a lobster, which I persuaded him would be much more digestible and less bilious than I should prove to be as a meal."

'I now went in search of the whale, whom I discovered disporting himself in the sea a very little way from the shore. Taking my shoes and stockings off, I waded as near to him as I dared, and to conciliate him right off I wore as benignant an expression as I could assume and thus addressed him: "Of one thing I am convinced," said I, "and it is that you are the last person in all the world who would willingly give pain to anything,—least of all to a baby oyster." "Quite so, quite so," snorted the whale, "and what is more I never have and, upon my soul, I never will." "Bravo, good resolution," cried I, and then in moving terms I explained the situation and urged him to take the blue pointlet back to its mother on receiving it from the conger eel. "What is this you say," roared the whale; "do you mean to tell me that in exchange for her own fat self that villainous conger-eel now offers me a baby oyster instead of the promised lobster? Is it for this gross insult that I allowed her to resume

her wretched existence? Well, I'm thundered!" and the enraged monster leapt seventy feet into the air. "Where is she?" roared he, and made off in the direction of the conger.

'But the old girl was one too many for the whale this time, and having heard his remarks on her conduct, off she darted after the lobster, saying to herself that as the whole arrangement had fallen through, she might just as well sup off the lobster,—besides, the claws would stew up quite well for the children's dinner to-morrow. The lobster in his turn, seeing the conger approach, at once understood that the affair was all off and left his little cave by the back door as conger entered by the front, and made for the place where he knew he would find the crab, arguing to himself thus:—"At any rate, the crab will make an excellent supper to which I have every right; for after all, as I have before remarked, business is business, and he will certainly be unable to fulfil his obligations." The saucy crab, however, saw him coming along with his mouth wide open ready to gobble him up, and shouted tauntingly to him:—"Keep your bristles on, old prawn" and ran off after the whelk. "Nothing really matters," thought he, "and as I feel a bit peckish I may as well eat up friend whelk and the blue pointlet 'll come in for a light breakfast in the morning." The cowardly whelk, reading the crab's evil intention in his eyes offered him the baby oyster. "Thanks, old flint," said the crab, "I'll have you first

and the youngster another time," and he pounced on the whelk and ate him right up. But as he was crawling off in great comfort the old lobster overtook him and in no time polished him off. The lobster, now too contented to move quickly, was slowly returning to the water when up came the conger-eel who, without any delay, proceeded to strangle him and then to gobble him up. After her feast, the old girl, in her turn, felt drowsy. "I think," said she, "I now deserve a nap," and she lay down in a pool and went fast asleep. Presently the whale came along, having been hunting for the conger all over the place. As soon as he caught sight of her he roared in his wrath, "Is this what you call keeping your bargain?" and with one gulp he bolted her,—head, fins, tail and all.

'Then, having accomplished his revenge, and at the same time satisfied his appetite, his contentment was complete and he rolled over on his side in the shallow water, and fell into a deep sleep.

'Now, thought I, is this not providential? Is there not here not merely the evening meal I left my cave to seek, but many meals for my good wife and children,—enough in fact to ward off hunger throughout the winter that is now fast approaching. Taking up a great rock I hurled it with all my force at the head of the whale and killed it on the spot. I now proceeded to cut up the great creature and carry it, piece by piece, to my cave, and that very night, when it was all