BIRDS OF THE WAVE AND WOODLAND 205 



begin " twiddling " and quivering in response to the sharp 

 brown teeth at work below, but instead of falling, the reed 

 would lean up against the next one, and when the vole came 

 up to look for it, it would not see it, but it used to say 

 " Bless me, how odd ! " and go under again, and begin cutting 

 another one down, bothering the dragon-fly who was sitting 

 on it very much by the vibration. Then it would come 

 up again, catch hold of it, and swim away to the stump 

 where its hole was, and drag it up and cut it into lengths 

 like an imitation beaver making a dam, and stop every 

 now and again and look round, though there was only 

 myself and the dragon-fly to appeal to, as much as to say, 

 " There ! that's the way it's done." And if there were two 

 of them, to see the way they stroked each other's cheeks 

 with their tiny paws, just as the wallabies do, putting one 

 hand on each side of the other's face, was as pretty as could 

 be. Then there were the dabchicks, who came swimming 

 along under water right over one's feet, looking like bags 

 of bubbles, or as if they were all covered with globules of 

 quicksilver, and stopping to eat something at the bottom, 

 as if they were fish, not birds. Then they would come 

 to the top for air, catch sight of me, and with a horrified 

 little "Goodness gracious!" bob under water again and go 

 off straight down the little canal, a streak of bubbles. 



