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The Pond   By: (1856-1908)

The Pond by Carl Ewald

First Page:

THE POND

By Carl Ewald

TRANSLATED FROM THE DANISH BY ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS AND ILLUSTRATED BY Warwick Reynolds

[Illustration]

THORNTON BUTTERWORTH LTD 15 BEDFORD ST LONDON WC2

Published 1922

[Illustration]

THE ROYAL ROAD LIBRARY

THE CARL EWALD BOOKS

Translated by ALEXANDER TEIXEIRA DE MATTOS

1. TWO LEGS

2. THE OLD WILLOW TREE and other stories

6. THE POND

THE NETTA SYRETT BOOKS

3. TOBY & THE ODD BEASTS

4. RACHEL & THE SEVEN WONDERS

8. MAGIC LONDON

THE W. H. KOEBEL BOOKS

5. THE BUTTERFLIES' DAY

7. THE PAGEANT OF THE FLOWERS

THE ROYAL ROAD LIBRARY

THE POND

[Illustration: THE CRAYFISH DROPPED OFF p. 105]

CONTENTS

Page

CHAPTER I. THE BEGINNING 13

CHAPTER II. A MAN OF THE WORLD 19

CHAPTER III. A MOTHER 27

CHAPTER IV. THE WATER SPIDER 37

CHAPTER V. THE BLADDER WORT 49

CHAPTER VI. SUMMER 59

CHAPTER VII. THE CARP 67

CHAPTER VIII. THE MUSSEL 77

CHAPTER IX. THE WATER LILY 91

CHAPTER X. THE CRAY FISH'S JOURNEY 99

CHAPTER XI. THE WORST DAY OF ALL 109

CHAPTER XII. THE END 123

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

The cray fish dropped off ( Colour ) Frontispiece

The pike appeared among the reeds with wide open mouth and rows of sharp teeth and angry eyes ( Colour ) 40

'He was in my way,' said the spider 44

'Oh! really,' said the perch ( Colour ) 64

He slammed his shell down 80

The Water Lily ( Colour ) 96

He lay in the water, hit by a stray shot 116

CHAPTER I

The Beginning

[Illustration]

One day in early spring, a young reed warbler sat in a bush in Italy and hung his beak.

This was not because he really had anything to complain of. The sun was shining; there were flies in plenty; and no one was doing him harm. A little while before, a pretty girl, with jet black eyes, had sat under the bush and listened to his song and kissed her hand to him.

And yet he wanted something.

He was tired of the Italian flies. He had a feeling in his wings as if he could do hundreds of miles at a stretch. There were notes in his throat which he was unable to get out and his little heart was filled with a longing which he could not understand and which would have made him cry, if a reed warbler knew how to cry. But he can only sing and he sings just alike on all days, whether he be glad or sorry.

So he sang. And, when he stopped, he heard a voice, from a bush close by, which resembled his own to a nicety, only it was not so strong.

He was off in a moment and alighting on a twig gazed at the sweetest little lady reed warbler that one could wish to set eyes on.

There was no one to introduce them to each other and so they introduced themselves. For there is not the same stiff etiquette among birds as at a court ball. Also things move more quickly; and, when they had chatted for five minutes or so, the reed warbler said:

"Now that I have seen you, I know what's the matter with me... Continue reading book >>




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