They both rolled under the water, and then out on the shore, dripping
wet and very angry with each other.

Pipsy went home to the old bush and was very miserable. He wanted
something to eat, and did not know where to find anything. Nipsy went
high up the beach, and found a lot of young hedge-crickets. But he did
not half enjoy them. They were fat and smooth, and he was hungry, but
crickets had no flavor without Pipsy to help eat them. But he was
angry at him yet.

"He must come to me," he said, sternly, to the cricket he was eating.

The cricket said nothing, being half-way down his throat, and pretty
soon Nipsy could stand his feelings no longer. Catching up the
largest, smoothest, softest cricket, he ran down to the shore as fast
as his legs could carry him. There, in the twilight, he saw a lonely
figure standing on one leg.

"Pipsy!" he cried.

"Nipsy!" cried Pipsy.

And they flew to each other.

"Here's a glorious fat cricket for you."

"Forgive me, Nipsy," said his brother.

And then they were happy.