him on the bank, from which he wriggled back to safety in the water. But Fatalist stuck his nose into the meshes of the net, struggling until they pounded him repeatedly with clubs and so killed him.
"And that is why I say:
Forethought and Ready wit thrive;
Fatalist can't keep alive."
"My dear," said the plover, "why do you think me like Fatalist?
Horses, elephants, and iron,
Water, woman, man,
Sticks and stones and clothes are built
On a different plan.
Feel no anxiety. Who can bring humiliation upon you while my arms protect you?"
So Constance laid her eggs, but the ocean, who had listened to the previous conversation, thought: "Well, well! There is sense in the saying:
Of self-conceit all creatures show
An adequate supply:
The plover lies with claws upstretched
To prop the falling sky.
I will just put his power to the test."
So the next day, when the two plovers had gone foraging, he made a long reach with his wave-hands and eagerly seized the eggs. Then when the hen-plover returned and found the nursery empty, she said to her husband: "See what has happened to poor
