however, were four or five little sticklebacks that lived under the
shade of a big willow, and these were so quarrelsome that I generally
fed them apart from the rest. But sometimes all met, and then the
feast usually was ended by the death of a minnow. For, shocking to
say, whenever there was a dispute for the food, some one of the little
fishes was almost sure to be devoured by the hungry sticklebacks.

These stickleback-and-minnow combats, after a while, came to be of
daily occurrence, and the reason for this was a singular one, which I
must explain.

Under the willow shade, and from one of the branches, I had hung a
miniature "belfry," containing a tiny brass bell, and had led the
string into the water, letting it go down to a considerable depth. At
first, I tied bait at intervals upon the line, and the sticklebacks,
of course, seized upon it, and thus rang the bell. Generally the
ringing was done in a very grave and proper way, although sometimes,
when the bait was too tightly tied, the quick peals sounded like a
call to a fire.

[Illustration]

I kept up this system of baiting the string for about a week, until
I thought they understood it, and then replaced the worms by bits of
stone. As I expected, the next morning, as I looked through the grass
and down into the water, tinkle! tinkle! rang the bell, and I knew my
little friends were saying, "Good-morning!" and expected a breakfast.
You may be sure they got it. I put my hand down, and up they came, and
got one worm apiece; and as I raised my hand, down they rushed, and
away went the bell, in an uproarious peal, that must have startled the