turned into a water-baby yet.

So he went very carefully, peeping round all the rocks, and hiding
under all the roots. Mr. Grimes lay there still; he had not turned
into a water-baby. In the afternoon Tom went back again. He could
not rest till he had found out what had become of Mr. Grimes. But
this time Mr. Grimes was gone; and Tom made up his mind that he was
turned into a water-baby.

He might have made himself easy, poor little man; Mr. Grimes did
not turn into a water-baby, or anything like one at all. But he
did not make himself easy; and a long time he was fearful lest he
should meet Grimes suddenly in some deep pool. He could not know
that the fairies had carried him away, and put him, where they put
everything which falls into the water, exactly where it ought to
be. But, do you know, what had happened to Mr. Grimes had such an
effect on him that he never poached salmon any more. And it is
quite certain that, when a man becomes a confirmed poacher, the
only way to cure him is to put him under water for twenty-four
hours, like Grimes. So when you grow to be a big man, do you
behave as all honest fellows should; and never touch a fish or a
head of game which belongs to another man without his express
leave; and then people will call you a gentleman, and treat you
like one; and perhaps give you good sport: instead of hitting you
into the river, or calling you a poaching snob.

Then Tom went on down, for he was afraid of staying near Grimes:
and as he went, all the vale looked sad. The red and yellow leaves
showered down into the river; the flies and beetles were all dead
and gone; the chill autumn fog lay low upon the hills, and