The Best of the Bass 131 



they wonder why. The sod makes a splash which 

 no fish could help but hear. Then the earth melts 

 away and leaves a big ball of dry grass, which floats 

 and floats and rocks about till some kind-hearted bass 

 takes a bunt at it, to find if it needs any assistance. 

 And it loosens up, and a half dozen or more little 

 pink things fall out, and go wavering, twisting, and 

 shuddering toward the bottom. And kind Mr. Bass 

 sees how it is, he has babies of his own, and 

 he gathers in the small castaways, where neither the 

 nasty wet river nor the horrid black mud will ever 

 touch them again. 



And then there are the frogs, grasshoppers, and 

 crickets. Let a man, or even an old cow, but move 

 along the bank above, and all these three must 

 needs start a-jumping. Nobody's going to touch 

 them, but they will jump, and they never look where 

 they are going. Over the bank then, of course, 

 plop into ten feet or more of water. And the poor 

 bass, trying to enjoy a little peace and quiet under 

 his log, has to hustle out and save life. Things 

 even very foolish things cannot be suffered to 

 drown right at one's door. And the crayfish ! Per- 

 fectly safe under the sunken stuff if they only would 

 stop there. But no ! out they go, backward at that! 

 never looking where they are going flip flip 

 flip in a crazy rush ; actually jostling decent, well- 

 mannered bass; even striking them in the face, in 

 their vulgar impetuosity. What can a poor bass do 

 with folk like these? No rest for him ! His life is 

 one long struggle to teach his neighbors sense. 

 But through all his toil and patient, uncomplaining 

 effort, he at least has one satisfaction his mis,- 



