engaged in a solemn discussion. Every once in awhile one of them
waved a fin or glanced in his direction. Finally, two of the largest
fish approached a little nearer. "Don't make any sudden moves," the
largest one, whose name was Glubber Fish, said with a mixture of
command and pleading.
"I don't understand," the little fish said, bewildered.
"Are you Chirpy Bird?" asked Glubber Fish.
"Yes. I--"
"You must leave the pond." It was a tone of finality.
"But why?" asked Chirpy Bird.
"Because you'll soon be eating us and our children. Besides,
birds don't live under water."
"But I'm not a bird," Chirpy Bird protested.
"What's your name?" demanded the other, who was called Spotted Fish.
"Chirpy Bird. But--"
"There you are," he said, with a tone of satisfaction.
"My name is Chirpy Bird," said the little one, "but I'm a fish."
"Nonsense," grumped Spotted Fish. "Whoever heard of a fish
named Chirpy Bird?"
"Whether you've heard of me or not, here I am," said Chirpy
Bird, not knowing what else to say.
"Totally illogical," interrupted Whisker Fish, who had just come near.
"As well as disrespectful and impudent," added Glubber fish.
"You must listen to reason," said Whisker Fish, self-importantly
brushing himself in preparation. "And here it is: You are Chirpy
Bird; granted. Birds eat fish; granted. Therefore, you eat fish."
"But--" Chirpy Bird tried to explain.
"There is no 'but.' It's a syllogism, and cannot be answered.
The conclusion follows necessarily," said Whisker Fish. "It's
pure logic."
"And it also follows," said Glubber fish, "that you must leave
the pond."
"I'll die if I leave the pond," said Chirpy Bird.
"That's not our problem," said Glubber Fish.
"And it's an irrelevant objection," added Whisker Fish. The
rest of the adult fish had gradually been easing forward during
this conversation and now, at the direction of Glubber Fish, the
whole group escorted Chirpy Bird down toward the rocky beach. In
a few minutes they reached a low spot near a weeping willow,
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