"A curious little old man with a flowing beard came toward them.""A curious little old man with a flowing beard came toward them."
“What funny trees,” said Fidge, looking up over his head.
The others followed his example, and found that he had good cause for his surprise; the long, smooth trunks, without any leaves, ended in a kind of ball, while at the roots a kind of enormous bulb appeared.
“Whatever can they be?” cried Marjorie, in amazement.
“Onions!” was the reply, spoken by a strange voice.
The children turned around, and beheld a curious little old man with a long flowing beard coming toward them.
“Have you any other questions to ask?” he inquired, pleasantly.
“It’s very kind of you, Sir,” said Dick, who was the first to recover from the surprise which they had all experienced at this sudden apparition. “Will you, please, tell us where we are?”
“Oh,” said the little man, with a smile, “this is the Field of Onions. And I am the Sage with the snowy beard who dwells in the Field of Onions. And that is the Hut of curious build which belongs to the Sage with the snowy beard who dwells in the Field of Onions.
“Is there anything else I can tell you? If so, pray ask me. I like it.”
“What a funny man,” whispered Marjorie. “Do you think he is quite right in his head?”
“Hush!” said Dick. “Perhaps he can direct us to the Little Panjandrum’s, and then we can find the Ambassador easily.”
“Little Panjandrum’s, certainly,” said the Sage, answering exactly as though he had been spoken to himself—
“”Take the first to the right on Tuesday week,The second to the left on Monday;On Friday you’ll not have far to seek,And be sure not to travel on Sunday!”
“But it’s no use going at all till you’ve found the Dodo,” he added.
“Good gracious! how did you know that we were looking for it,” cried Dick.
“Oh, I know everything,” said the Sage, complacently. “Did you ever know a Sage who didn’t?”
“I’m afraid I’ve never known one at all before,Sir,” said Dick; “but I should think it must be very useful to know such a lot, isn’t it?”
“Yes, it isn’t bad,” admitted the Sage; “would you like to know how I became so clever?”
“Oh, yes, please,” cried all the children at once.
Motioning them to a seat on an onion bulb, the little man struck an attitude, and began—
“I was brought up on Verbs of irregular kind,With a Pronoun or two as a treat,While a strict course of Logic, to strengthen my mind,My pastors and masters thought meet.I had Lessons for breakfast, and Sums for my tea,Learnt to play the Arithmetic nicely,And gained all the prizes at School—don’t you see,For construing Doggerel concisely.They were Isms, and Ologies, Science, and Cram,Quadratic Equations, and Butter,ThePons asinorum, and Strawberry Jam,And the Cane, did I mumble or mutter.”
CHAPTER IV.STORIES AND TAILS BY THE SAGE.
“Do you mean to say,” inquired Dick, when the Sage had finished, “that all those last things were prizes; because, if so, there isn’t a single one of them that I should have cared for much, except the Strawberry Jam?”
“That only shows a great want of taste on your part,” said the old Sage, severely. “Isms and Ologies, and things of that sort, are very tasty, when you become used to them.”
“What are Isms and Ologies, if you please, Sir?” asked Marjorie.
“Oh, there are various kinds,” was the reply. “There’s Ge-Ology, for instance, which is lovely spread on bread-and-butter; and Zo-Ology, with Aphor-Ism sauce, is simply delicious.”
“They don’t sound very nice,” said Marjorie, dubiously, making a wry face.
“You don’t know anything at all about it, I’m afraid, my dear,” said the little old man,decidedly. “You would probably prefer dolls and foolishness of that sort!”
“Yes, I think I should,” admitted Marjorie, candidly.
“Do you knoweverything, please, Mr. Sage?” inquired Fidge, who had been very silent during this conversation, which he had not in the least been able to understand.
“Yes, my dear,” said the Sage, smiling affably.
“Stories?” inquired Fidge, his eyes wide open with excitement and interest.
The old man nodded.
“Oh! do tell us one, please,” begged the little boy. “The Three Bears, or Little Red Riding Hood, or something of that sort.”
“Fidge, Fidge,” cried Dick, rebukingly, “you mustn’t bother the gentleman.”
“Oh, I don’t mind in the least,” said the Sage, pleasantly. “I’ll tell him some stories, if he likes.”
“Oh! thanks, that’s jolly!” cried Fidge, clapping his hands, and they all sat down again, while the old man began as follows:—
“It was on a dark winter’s night, and the hot sun was pouring down upon the——”
“Oh!” interrupted Marjorie, “I beg your pardon, but haven’t you made a mistake? It couldn’t have been dark, you know, if the sun was shining.”
The Sage frowned severely.
“Are you telling this story, or am I?” he asked, coldly.
“Oh, I beg your pardon,” said Marjorie, “please go on.”
“Was pouring down upon the ship,” continued the Sage, “and almost freezing the poor soldiers, who had great difficulty as it was, in dragging the heavy cannon up the steep side of the mountain, upon which he was standing; still leaning over the side of the balloon, she peered down eagerly into the sky. There was not a soul in sight.
“Suddenly a cry of ‘Fire!’ rang through the town, and two or three of them hastily putting on their best clothes, joined the picnic party under the gnarled oak tree in the meadow, and their joyous laughter rang merrily down theold staircase, where the grandfather’s clock stood, tick-tick-ticking, like the great volcano which yawned at their very feet, and into which the two boys plunged merrily, and were soon splashing about in the shallow water like a mahogany chest of drawers upon the sands of time.”
The Sage paused.
“Do you like it?” he inquired, anxiously.
“Not much, I’m afraid,” said Dick. “You see, we can’t quite understand what it’s all about.”
“Well, neither do I,” said the Sage, “because, you know, I’m making it up as I go along.”
“Then it isn’t true?” asked Marjorie.
“True? Nonsense! You wanted a story, didn’t you? This is a real story; there isn’t a particle of truth in it anywhere.”
“Oh, we didn’t mean that kind of story,” explained Marjorie, “we meant a tale.”
“What kind of a tale would you like—a Fishes’ tale, a Birds’ tale, or an Animals’ tale?”
“A birds’ tale, please,” said Marjorie, after consulting the others.
“All right,” said the Sage, “this is a lot of birds’ tales all tied up together, and is called a fable——”
"The gossiping goose.""The gossiping goose."
“Is it one of Æsop’s?” asked Dick, who thought that it would look grand for him to have heard of Æsop’s fables.
“No, it isn’t,” said the Sage, rather crossly; “it’s one of my own! Now then, are you ready? I call it—”
“THE GOSSIPING GOOSE.”
“A Crested Grebe, a Spoonbill, and a Goose,I beg to say,Met one fine day,And compliments were passed the most profuse.”How very well you look, my dear,” said one,”That shade of redUpon your head,So sweet; and howdelightfullyyour hair is done.”And each had gratifying things to say,With gushing smile,Upon the styleOf all the others’ holiday array.Then Mrs. Goose, with most superior sneer,Said, ”Have you seenThat dress of greenThat Mrs. Peacock’s wearing now, my dear?”She looks a perfect guy, and then—her feetAnd legs! Oh, lor!I never sawA bird so clumsy, or so indiscreet.”I met her at the Concert Hall last week,A poor affair,I do declare,I wonder that the Songsters have such cheek.”Miss Nightingale was singing far too loud;I never heardSo harsh a bird,I wonder how she dared to face the crowd.”Miss Thrush had quite a decent voice, I hear,Some years ago(A score or so),But now her voice is giving way, I fear.”She sang as badly as did Mrs. Lark,Who all agreed,Had every needOf lessons, to bringherup to the mark.”Miss Linnet had a really dreadful cough.As for the rest,They quite distressedThe company. Well, good-by, dears. I’m off.”And, while the Spoonbill and the other birdWent on their way,I heard one say,”That Mrs. Goose is really most absurd.”She talks about the Peacock’s gaudy dress:If she prefersThat gray of hers,I don’t admire her taste, I must confess.”And as for legs and feet—well, I declare,The pair she’s gotAre really notThe kind that I’d be seen with anywhere.”While as for singing, thatsheshould complainOf other folkIs past a joke,I vow I’ll not be friends with her again.””My dear,” the other said, ”remember this:A critic sheOf high degree,For though she can’t sing well, the goose canhiss.””
The Sage had scarcely finished when a sound of weeping and wailing was heard, and presently a whole troop of gnomes appeared in the onion field. They were crying bitterly, and to the children’s great surprise several of them had grown enormously tall and others equally stout.
They came straight up to the Sage’s hut, and with tears streaming down their faces beseeched him to help them. They had foolishly been making use of the authority which the LittlePanjandrum’s Ambassador had given to the children; and although it acted one way, and made them the size that they wished to be, it would not turn them back again.
"They were crying bitterly.""They were crying bitterly."
“And my wife and family refuse to have anything to do with me,” said one ridiculously tall individual.
“And I can’t squeeze into my own house, anyhow,” wept the stout one.
“The only way,” said the Sage, after a moment’s thought, with his forehead wrinkled into deep furrows, “is to send the Ki-Wi to the Court of the Little Panjandrum for a fresh authority. It’s no use your having this one back if it won’t act properly, is it?” he inquired, turning to the children.
“Certainly not,” said Dick; “but who is the Ki-Wi, please?”
“Oh, he’s the Court Messenger,” explained the Sage, “and is the only one here allowed to enter the Court of the Little Panjandrum without permission.”
“Go and fetch him,” he continued.
And the gnomes disappeared, returning presently with the Ki-Wi (who turned out to be a curious kind of bird), and the written authority, which had been taken from the children.
“Let me look at it,” said the Sage, holding out his hand for the paper.
"Produced a large document and began to read.""Produced a large document and began to read."
“Why, no wonder it won’t act for the gnomes,” he exclaimed, when he had read it.
“It mentions you all by name—just try it yourselves, will you?”
Dick took the paper from him, and said loudly, “We wish to be our own size again.”
To their great delight the children at once found themselves their usual height, and the onions, which had looked before like huge trees, now only reached a little above their heads, while the Sage and the other gnomes looked the tiniest little creatures again.
“This is better,” said Dick, shaking himself as though he had come out of the water.
“Yes, isn’t it good to be ourselves once more,” said Marjorie.
While Fidge jumped about delightedly, breaking down several of the onion plants, and almost treading on the Sage’s hut.
“Don’t caper about like a lot of lunatics,” shouted the little man, angrily. “Come and sit down and talk business. The Ki-Wi has something to tell you.”
All excitement to know what it could be, the children sat down again, and the Ki-Wi after fumbling about in his coat tail for some time, produced a large document and began to read.
CHAPTER V.THE KING OF THE FISHES.
“ Um—ah—that is to say—er—notwithstanding, nevertheless, likewise also, and as is herein aforesaid,” began the Ki-Wi, in an important voice.
“Hold on!” cried Dick. “We can’t understand all that, you know. Why don’t you say what you have to say in English?”
“It is English,” declared the Ki-Wi, in an aggrieved voice, “and very good English too.”
“Of course it is,” chimed in the Sage.
“Well we don’t understand it, anyhow,” maintained Dick. “It doesn’t seem to mean anything at all.”
“Perhaps, Dick, dear,” said Marjorie, “Mr. Sage will explain it to us. Let’s see—it began——”
“”Notwithstanding, nevertheless, likewise, and as is herein aforesaid,”” repeated the Ki-Wi.
“Well, I’ll explain it, if you wish with pleasure,” said the Sage, “though I can’t see in the least why it should be necessary. It seems to me to perfectly simple. To begin with—‘Notwithstanding’ describes our position just now—Not-with-standing, ornot standing withthe Ki-Wi. He is standing, while we are sitting down, you see; then ‘nevertheless’ means of course the same asalways-the-greater, which exactly describes me. You see, my great learning and cleverness always makes me greater than the people I am speaking to, and consequentlynever-the-less. The next word is also descriptive of myself. ‘Likewise,’ orlike a wise man, which, I am sure, you will all agree that I am; and ”herein’ means that my brains are allin here,” said the Sage, tapping his head. “While ‘aforesaid’—the last word—means that I have a strong head, or aforce-head, do you see?”
“Is the rest of the paper all about yourself, too, Sir?” asked Marjorie.
“Yes,” was the complacent reply. “Go on, Ki-Wi.”
“I’m afraid we can’t stop,” interrupted Dick.
“You see, we have got to hunt up that wretched Dodo, and perhaps we had better be going now.”
“Yes, we must be going now,” chimed in Fidge, jumping up eagerly, for all this rigmarole had been very uninteresting to him.
“Oh, I’m sorry you can’t stay,” said the Sage, in a disappointed voice. “I could have told you such a lot more about myself. You do think I’m clever though, don’t you?” he asked, anxiously.
“Oh, immensely!” said the children, politely.
“Thanks!” said the Sage. “Will you take a few onions with you as a memento of your visit?”
“No thank you,” said Marjorie, hurriedly.
“They would remind you of me,” suggested the Sage, wistfully; “Sage and onions you know.”
“No, thanks,” said Dick, “I’m sure we shall remember you without.”
“Now that’sverykind of you,” said the Sage, “and I’ll do the best I can to help you in your search for the Dodo. Let’s see, where did he say he was going to?”
“The Equator,” said Dick; “but I’m sure we can’t go all that way after him, and get back in a week.”
“You could if you went by sea,” said the Sage.
“What do you mean?” asked Dick.
“Why, I could give you an introduction to the King of the Fishes, you know, and hemightlend you his dolphins; they travel at a rare pace, and would get you there in no time.”
“Oh, yes,” cried Marjorie, “of course wecango under the sea, don’t you know, the paper says so. Wouldn’t it be jolly, even if we didn’t find the Dodo?”
“Don’t want to be drownded, and get all deaded,” objected Fidge.
“You wouldn’t be, dear,” said Marjorie. “Brother Dick wouldn’t take us anywhere where we should come to any harm.”
“How should we get there, I wonder?” asked Dick, thoughtfully.
“I’ll show you—come along,” said the Sage, getting up and leading the way.
The children followed, and the little gnomes,now all reduced to their proper size, came trooping along after them.
Presently they reached the edge of the cliff, and the sea, sparkling in the sunlight, lay at their feet some distance below.
The Sage, hastily scribbling a note with a piece of pencil, thrust it into Dick’s hand, and crying, “This is the quickest way!” deliberately pushed the children, one after the other, over the cliff.
Before they had time to realize what had happened, or to become in the least alarmed, they found themselves slowly and comfortably sinking through the air; while a shriek of laughter from the gnomes caused them to look up to the edge of the cliffs, where they beheld all the little fellows leaning over and waving their pocket-handkerchiefs, while the Sage and the Ki-Wi stood in their midst.
“Oh!” cried Marjorie, as they descended, “isn’t it fortunate we have the power to float in the air; it would have been an awful plunge otherwise, wouldn’t it?”
“Yes,” agreed Dick, reaching out his hand toFidge, who looked just a little wee bit frightened. “I wonder what it will be like on the sea.”
He had not to speculate long, however, for almost at that moment their feet touched the water, and they sank down, down, down through the clear green depths.
“Oh, look!” cried Fidge, excitedly. “Fishes! Fishes!” and he started off swimming after them quite naturally.
“One’s got a hat on,” he called out. “Look! look! there’s another; oh, let’s catch them!”
“If you don’t behave yourself you’ll be locked up,” said a severe voice, and, turning around, the children beheld a very stern-looking fish, wearing a helmet, and carrying a truncheon.
“Now then, move on; don’t obstruct the traffic!” he cried, angrily; and the children swimming off as hastily as they could, mentally put him down as a kind of sea policeman.
“You certainly mustn’t try and catch any of the fishes, Fidge, or you will be getting us all into trouble,” said Dick. And Fidge, overawed by the policeman fish, became quiet subdued,and contented himself with a quiet “Look! look!” when they passed anything particularly strange or interesting.
"The chair was floating just in front of them.""The chair was floating just in front of them."
They had very nearly reached the bottom of the sea, when they noticed a singular-looking object floating some distance in front of them.
“It looks like a chair!” declared Marjorie. “Why, I believe,” she continued, as they drewnearer, “that it’s the very one the Dodo was floating upon when we saw him last.”
“So it is!” cried Dick; “and look, there’s a note on it—perhaps it’s for us.”
They swam towards it as quickly as they could, and had just reached the chair, as a curious-looking fish—with a very long nose, and wearing shoes on the end of his long tail, and a tall hat—swam past.
He looked at them inquisitively, and then stood a little way at the back of them, waiting till they should be disengaged.
“To all to whom it may concern,” read Dick, after he had picked up the note from off the chair. “I suppose that means us as much as any one.”
“Of course it does,” agreed Marjorie. “It concerns us very much to find out where the Dodo is.”
Dick hesitated no longer, but opened the note eagerly. His face fell, however, when he beheld the contents.
“Mind your own business!” he read, slowly. “What a sell! I believe the Dodo did writeit, though, and intended it as a hint that we were not to try find and him. I’m half inclined to give it up.”
“But Dick, dear, remember,” said Marjorie, “we shall be—er—you know—what the Ambassador said—if we don’t find him.”
“Oh, ah,” said Dick, “I’d forgotten that. Come on, then; let’s see what can be done.”
“Can I be of any assistance?” said the thin fish, coming forward with a polite bow. “Have you lost anything?”
“Oh, thanks,” said Dick. “We’re looking for a Dodo. Do you happen to have seen one about here?”
“A Dodo,” said the fish, reflectively. “I don’t think I have the pleasure of the gentleman’s acquaintance. What kind of a fish is he?”
“Oh, he isn’t a fish at all,” explained Dick; “he is a kind of bird, you know.”
“Ah! birds we don’t encourage below the surface, as a rule,” said the fish, smiling indulgently. “You are scarcely likely to meet with him here. Perhaps His Majesty the King of the Fishes would advise you.”
“Oh, I have a letter of introduction to His Majesty,” said Dick. “I’m afraid it’s rather wet,” he said, apologetically, drawing it from his pocket.
“It would be unacceptable to His Majesty were it not so,” said the fish. “Well, now, Iwasgoing to a football match, it being a half-holiday; but under the circumstances, I will put it off, and escort you to the Palace. This way, please.”
Sinking down to the sand at the bottom of the sea, the fish led the way through a beautiful forest of waving seaweed, of all the colors of the rainbow. Exquisite shells were strewn about, and brightly-colored anemones clung to the rocks on every side, while all kinds of oddly-shaped fishes swam about, peering at the children curiously as they passed.
Presently they came in sight of a kind of Palace, formed of quaintly-shaped pieces of coral, which, the fish explained, was where the King lived.
“Just stay here a moment, please,” said he; and the children waited outside while he went into the Palace.
"'Bring them forward,' said the king of the fishes.""'Bring them forward,' said the king of the fishes."
Fidge pulled aside a piece of seaweed, and they all peeped through a hole in the coral, and saw a large fish wearing a crown, and with a curious chain about his neck, to which was attached an enormous fish-hook, seated on a throne.
Officers of State stood round about, and the little thin fish that had been so polite to them was bowing and scraping in quite a courtly fashion.
He was evidently telling His Majesty all about them, for, after hearing what he had to say, the King of the Fishes nodded; and the thin fish came out, and informed them that they were to be admitted into the Presence.
CHAPTER VI.IN THE KING”S PRESENCE.
“Do you understand fish-language?” whispered the little thin fish, hurriedly, as he was conducting them into the Presence Chamber.
“I’m afraid not,” replied Dick.
“Then you must remain silent, for in the King’s presence nothing but the fish-language is allowed to be spoken. I will interpret for you afterwards.”
Pushing aside some curtains of brightly-colored seaweed he led them into the Presence Chamber.
The King received them very graciously, and held out one fin as they approached.
“I expect we ought to kneel on one knee, and kiss it, like they do at presentations,” whispered Marjorie.
But Dick wasn’t going to do anything of that sort, and just touched it lightly with one hand,while the others followed suit. The thin fish then motioned them to sit down on a kind of divan, upon which large sponges took the place of cushions, and which the children found to be most comfortable; and the audience began.
The most extraordinary part about it was that not the slightest sound could be heard. The little thin fish opened and shut his mouth in little, short, jerky gasps, to which the King replied by slowly opening and shutting his, rolling his eyes about meanwhile, just as you may have seen fishes do in an aquarium.
Then the little fish solemnly handed His Majesty the Sage’s letter, which the King put on his gold-rimmed glasses to read.
Having done so, he turned to the children and smiled, at least that’s what they afterwards found out he was doing; but, really and truly, he made such a curious grimace that poor little Fidge was frightened, and wanted to run away.
His Majesty then opened and shut his mouth very slowly three or four times, to which all theother fishes replied by swimming backwards three strokes, and then forward three strokes. Then the audience was at an end.
"Some fishes were playing football.""Some fishes were playing football."
The little thin fish came and whispered to the children, “It is usual for mortals, when leaving the presence of the King, to turn three somersaults backwards. Do you think you can do that?”
“I’m afraid not,” replied Dick, anxiously. “At least, I might be able to manage, but I don’t know about Marjorie and Fidge.”
“Oh, never mind, then; I’ll ask His Majesty to be good enough to excuse you,” said the fish, and, making a low bow to the King, he explained the situation in a few short gasps.
His Majesty thereupon left the audience chamber, having first graciously inclined his head towards the children.
As he swam away, two little fishes attached themselves to the tip of His Majesty’s tail, while another held the crown down on his royal head, to prevent it from slipping off, the rest of the audience swimming behind at a respectful distance, forming a sort of procession.
“Well,” began the thin fish, after the others had all gone, “I congratulate you. His Majesty had been good enough to place the Royal Dolphins at your disposal, and if the Dodo you are searching for is anywhere on, or in, the sea you ought to have no difficulty in finding him, for the Dolphins swim very quickly indeed, and can take you anywhere you like in a jiffy. Please follow me to the royal stables, and we will harness them.”
The children passed out after their kind littlefriend, and followed him into the gardens of the Palace, which they had to cross in order to reach the stables.
Marjorie was enraptured at the sight of the beautifully-arranged gardens, in which brightly-colored anemones took the place of flowers.
On a lawn of the finest short green seaweed, a number of globe-shaped fishes, with striped bodies, were playing football, and the children stopped a few minutes to watch the game.
They were very much surprised to find that the football itself was a fish—a little round chap, just the shape of a football—who, on the players giving him a smart kick with their tail, shot up through the water and over the goal in no time.
“Doesn’t he object?” said Dick, after they had watched this performance for some time; “I know I should.”
“Oh, dear, no!” exclaimed their guide, “he enjoys it quite as much as the others do. You see, it’s such a delightful sensation to be shot through the water without the effort of swimming;but, come along, we must be off if you are going to start to-day.”
"And now he's quite well, thanks.""And now he's quite well, thanks."
“There’s one little piece of advice I should like to give you in your search for the Dodo,” he continued, kindly, as they swam along. “If you don’t succeed in catching him one way, try another. Remember the bear with a cold.”
“What do you mean?” asked the children.
“Don’t you know the story of the bear with a cold?” was the reply.
“No; do tell us!” they cried.
“Why, you see,” said the fish, “there was once an old bear, who had a dreadful cold, and his friends all advised him to try different things to cure it. One said one thing, and one another, and although he tried them all, one after the other, he didn’t get any better; but still he persevered, and kept trying all the remedies they suggested, and at last hewascured, and what do you think did it?”
"Come on, Marjorie, let's have a race.""Come on, Marjorie, let's have a race."
“What?” inquired the children.
“Why, some one suggested putting his feet into hot mustard and water and drinking gruel—and he tried it several times with no effect; and at last he fortunately thought of reversing the process, so he put his feet into some thick gruel, and drank a lot of mustard and water, and now he’s quite well, thanks. So don’t you get discouraged if you don’t find the Dodo at once; but, as I said before, if one way doesn’t succeed, try another.”
“Thanks!” said the children, “we’ll remember.”
Just then they found themselves before a kind of shed, built of coral, which the fish entered, returning shortly afterwards leading three curious-looking fishes by a simple sort of bridle.
“Here they are!” he announced; “you willfind them quite docile. Just mount them and see how you like their pace.”
The children needed no second invitation, and were soon astride their strange steeds.
With a whisk of their tails they were soon off, dashing through the water at such a rate that the little thin fish had the greatest difficulty in keeping up with them, even for a short distance.
“Oh! this is jolly!” cried Dick.
“Come on, Marjorie, let’s have a race.”
The Dolphins answered to the slightest pull at the reins, and the children hadn’t the least fear; so, getting into a line, they waited for their friend the thin fish to come up and give them the signal to start.
CHAPTER VII.THE HUMAN RACE.
The little thin fish seemed to be a long while catching them up, and, while they were waiting, Marjorie espied a curious figure poking about among the seaweed a short distance away from them.
“I wonder what it is!” she cried, and the children dismounted from the Dolphins, and, tying them by the reins to some coral stumps, so that they could not swim away, they half walked and half swam over to where Marjorie had first noticed the creature, whatever it was.
“Why, it’s a man!” cried Dick, as they drew nearer, and could distinguish him more clearly.
He was a wretched-looking old fellow, with a heavy sack upon his back, and was clothed only in a ragged old garment, which scarcely reached to his knees.
“Poor man,” said Marjorie, in a whisper,“how unhappy he looks; perhaps he has lost something.”
The man glanced up nervously as the children approached, and, clutching at his bag jealously, he demanded—
“Who are you? What do you want?”
“Nothing, thank you, poor old man,” began Marjorie; “we were only——”
The old man burst into a peal of hoarse laughter.
“Poorold man!” he exclaimed. “Do you know that I am the richest man in the world. Look!” he exclaimed, opening his bag before the children’s astonished eyes. “Gold! jewels! riches! wealth! they are all mine—ha—ha—ha—ha!” and he laughed discordantly, and hugged the bag closely to himself again.
“Oh, come away!” cried Marjorie, catching at Dick’s arm. “I’m so frightened.”
“I’m the Old Man of the Sea,” continued the man, “and all the treasures of the deep are mine. I have stacks of golden crowns and jewels without number, and each day I gather more—they are all mine—mine—mine!”
“But where do they all come from?” asked Dick.
“The bottom of the sea is strewn with riches,” continued the old man, “and there is no one to reap the harvest but myself.”
“You must be very happy if you are so rich,” said Dick. “It must be lovely to have all those things.”
“No, I am not happy,” said the Old Man of the Sea. “I am very old, and very lonely, and there is no one here to admire my treasures but myself. The fishes will have nothing to do with me—they do not care for gold; it is valueless to them—and I may not go on land, so I am here alone with my riches, and every day I gather more and more. I have piled them high about my cave in a great circle, and some day, when it becomes top-heavy, it will fall over and crush me beneath it, and I shall be buried in a tomb of gold. No king, no emperor, had ever so grand a sepulchre as I shall have, but I am not happy—no—no—not happy, not happy.”
And the old man shouldered his bag and moved away, muttering sorrowfully.
“Poor man, poor man,” said Marjorie; “for he is poor, although he has so much wealth isn’t he, Dick?”
"Filling his bag with all kinds of treasure.""Filling his bag with all kinds of treasure."
“Yes, jolly poor, and miserable too. I wouldn’t be him for something,” said Dick. “Come on, it makes me wretched to think about him—let’s get back to the Dolphins.”
When they reached them, they found that little friend, the thin fish, had arrived at last.
“Hullo!” cried Dick. “What a jolly long while you have been catching us up. Wherever have you been to all this time?”
“Why,” explained the fish, “I thought I heard you saying something about a race, and suddenly I remembered what a splendid opportunity your visit down here would afford us of witnessing a real human race—you are human, aren’t you?” he asked, anxiously.
“Yes, I suppose so,” replied Dick.
“That’s right,” said the fish. “Come on, the King is most anxious for the race to begin at once, and I promised to bring you back with me immediately.”
“But whatisa human race?” inquired Marjorie, as they mounted their Dolphins.
“Oh, you’ll see when we get back,” was the reply, and, the little fish hanging on to one of the Dolphins’ tails they were soon flying through the water at a rare rate.
When they got back to the lawn by the King’s Palace, the children were greatly astonished tosee a big crowd of fishes drawn up in two lines, with a wide path between them. The King, on a shell throne, surrounded by his courtiers, was at one end, and several important-looking fishes were fussing about at the other, making a straight line with some little lumps of white chalk.
There was a cheer when the children arrived on their Dolphins, and a rush was made to assist them to alight.
“But what are we to do?” they inquired, rather dismayed at these elaborate preparations.
“Show us a human race,” was the reply.
“Well, a human race is just like any other kind of race, I suppose,” said Dick, “the one who reaches the goal first wins. If we are going to race, though, we shall have to be handicapped.”
“What’s that?” cried the fishes.
“Why, you see,” explained Dick, “it wouldn’t be fair for us all to start from the same line, for Fidge, of course, cannot run as quickly as Marjorie or me; and Marjorie, too, being only a girl, will have to have a start allowed her, and this is called handicapping.”
“Very well, manage it your own way,” was the reply. “When are you going to start?”
“Oh, as soon as you like,” said Dick. “Where’s the winning-post?”
“That white line up by the King’s throne,” said one of the fishes. And Dick, having given Fidge a very long start, and Marjorie a slight advantage, declared himself ready to begin.
“One, to make ready,Two, to be steady,Three, and—away!”
shouted one of the principal fishes, and off they scrambled. I say scrambled, because if you have ever tried to run under water you will know that it is a very difficult thing to do—the weight of the water prevents you from getting along at all quickly. The fishes watching the race became very excited, and, in their eagerness to urge them on, kept getting in the children’s way, swimming about in front of them, and getting mixed up with their arms and legs in a most confusing manner. At length, however, this extraordinary race came to an end, and thechildren arrived at the winning-post in the same order in which they had started.
“Oh, I’ve won—I’ve won!” shouted Fidge, delightedly. “Haven’t I, Dick?”