So when you are tempted to rob birds' nests, or to set the dogs on a moorhen, or pelt wrens in the hedge, think; and say--How should I like that to be done to me?
I know: but what are all the birds doing?
Look at the water, how it sparkles.

It is alive with tiny fish, "fry," "brett" as we call them in the West, which the mackerel are driving up to the top.
Poor little things! How hard on them! The big fish at them from below, and the birds at them from above.

And what is that?
Thousands of fish leaping out of the water, scrambling over each other's backs.

What a curious soft rushing roaring noise they make! Aha! The eaters are going to be eaten in turn.

Those are the mackerel themselves; and I suspect they see Mr.Whale, and are scrambling out of the way as fast as they can, lest he should swallow them down, a dozen at a time.