"And what would you do in return?" said the little bird, swinging
upon a silver spray, and flapping his tiny wings.

"I don't understand you," answered the Water-rat.

"Let me tell you a story on the subject," said the Linnet.

"Is the story about me?" asked the Water-rat. "If so, I will
listen to it, for I am extremely fond of fiction."

"It is applicable to you," answered the Linnet; and he flew down,
and alighting upon the bank, he told the story of The Devoted
Friend.

"Once upon a time," said the Linnet, "there was an honest little
fellow named Hans."

"Was he very distinguished?" asked the Water-rat.

"No," answered the Linnet, "I don't think he was distinguished at
all, except for his kind heart, and his funny round good-humoured
face. He lived in a tiny cottage all by himself, and every day he
worked in his garden. In all the country-side there was no garden
so lovely as his. Sweet-william grew there, and Gilly-flowers, and
Shepherds'-purses, and Fair-maids of France. There were damask
Roses, and yellow Roses, lilac Crocuses, and gold, purple Violets
and white. Columbine and Ladysmock, Marjoram and Wild Basil, the
Cowslip and the Flower-de-luce, the Daffodil and the Clove-Pink
bloomed or blossomed in their proper order as the months went by,
one flower taking another flower's place, so that there were always