their lives.

They all came to the meeting--bream, and perch, and roach, and dace,
and gudgeon; yes, and the little ersh with his spiny back.

The silly roach said, "Let us kill the pike."

But the gudgeon looked at him with his great eyes, and asked, "Have
you got good teeth?"

"No," says the roach, "I haven't any teeth."

"You'd swallow the pike, I suppose?" says the perch.

"My mouth is too small."

"Then do not use it to talk foolishness," said the gudgeon; and the
roach's fins blushed scarlet, and are red to this day.

"I will set my prickles on end," says the perch, who has a row of
sharp prickles in the fin on his back. "The pike won't find them too
comfortable in his throat."

"Yes," said the bream; "but you will have to go into his throat to put
them there, and he'll swallow you all the same. Besides, we have not
all got prickles."

There was a lot more foolishness talked. Even the minnows had
something to say, until they were made to be quiet by the dace.