102 A REAL POND.

Mousie did exactly as she was told; she guided the net
anxiously to the bank; and sure enough when she pulled it out
at the end of it lay two pretty little creatures. They were not
much longer, each of them, than one of her fingers.

Father lifted them softly into the bottle, where they could
be seen clearly.

“Why, they are little crocodiles!” said Mousie, for she had
seen a picture of one in a book at home, and thought these were
like it, only much prettier.

“No,” laughed father, “they are not crocodiles, although
they are not so very unlike them either, except that crocodiles
have a horny skin. A crocodile is nothing but a big water-
lizard, and these are little water-lizards—or newts—or some
people call them efts.”’

‘‘ But one is much prettier than the other!” said Mousie.
“Look, he has a frill on his back, and such lovely white and
scarlet underneath, with black spots on it, just like that lily in
the greenhouse.”

“That is the father-eft. The other
plain-looking little body is his wife.
She lays the eggs, and does all the
business, while the husband makes
himself smart and enjoys life. Now,
Mousie, we shall not have much more
room in your pond, for we must
not put in too many creatures; but
look just there—do you see something
‘running about on the top of the
water,’ as you said just now? That
is a water-boatman; it is really a beetle, with a body shaped
like a boat, and long legs like oars. He rows himself about
with those. He is a fierce fellow, and I am afraid that if we