Last Sunday a frivolous fish was playing not far from the beach, and Dr.Hawk went out and stopped him.

'Tis fun to watch him at that sort of work--stopping play--though somehow it does not seem to amuse the fish much.

Up in the air he poises pensively, hanging on hushed wings as though listening for sounds--maybe a fish's.

By and by he hears a herring--is he hard of herring, think you?
Then down he drops and soon has a Herring Safe.

(Send me something, manufacturers, immediately.) Does he tear his prey from limb to limb?
No, he merely sails away through the blue ether--how happy can he be with either!--till the limb whereon his own nest is built is reached.