they found a boat waiting when they reached the station, and professor crab having purchased the tickets they went on board the singular conveyance. they had hardly taken their seats amongst a number of respectably dressed fishes when the bell rang and they were off.
before they had proceeded far, boy noticed a sudden rush to the great window at one side of the boat, and joining the crowd he heard some one say, “there goes the prince of whales.”
looking eagerly out of the window, he saw a whale very nicely dressed in a perfectly-fitting frock-coat and wearing a beautifully glossy new top hat; he had a gold-headed umbrella tucked under one fin, and was followed by a crowd of small fishes who were evidently trying to attract his attention, but of whom he was not taking the slightest notice. he raised his hat, though, and bowed very affably as the crowd on the boat cheered him.
“his marine highness is looking very well, isn’t he?” inquired a gentlemanly-looking whiting of boy, as the prince of whales disappeared from view.
“very well indeed,” replied boy; “he seems to be very popular,” he added.
“oh yes, he is,” replied the whiting. “he is a capital fellow, and does an immense amount of good. he is on his way now to open the new home for distressed barnacles, i believe.”
an american king crab, sitting near, remarked in a loud voice that he “didn’t believe in princes.”
“i guess we can do without them 011 our side of the herring pond,” he said contemptuously, and then went over to speak to a small oyster who was sitting the other side of the boat. boy was rather interested in the king crab, never having seen one of these curious-looking creatures before, so he walked over too, just in time to hear him say to the oyster,—
“native of these parts, 1 presume, stranger?”
the oyster bowed.
“wal, no offence to you, but i guess we’ve got oysters over our side of the atlantic that could knock you into fits. why, we’ve got’em so big over there that it takes two men and a boy to swallow one of them.”
“i’ve heard my uncle say,” remarked boy pleasantly, that most things in america are on a very large scale; i suppose he must have been thinking of those oysters.”
“yes, siree, i guess your uncle’s right. i reckon that our country is going to lick creation before long,” said the american king crab, walking away and looking very pleased.
“there, now you’ve made him happy,” said the oyster, laughing.
“why, what have i done?” asked boy innocently.
“why, americans are always very glad to hear their country praised, you know,” said the oyster; “let’s come on deck and hear the singing.”
boy very readily followed him on to the deck where they found a crowd gathered around a couple of soles with black faces, dressed in nigger costumes, who were singing to the accompaniment of a guitar the following song:—
the great sea serpent.
“i will sing a funny song
of a serpent of the sea,
which the sailors all declare
they have often seen disporting,
as they sailed in foreign parts,
here and there and everywhere.
“and when editors of papers
have no other news than this,
they will always find a space
for the story of a captain,
a lieutenant, or a mate,
how this monster they did face.
“and these stories vary strangely,
as such stories ofttimes do,
and they none of them agree
as to length, or the appearance,
or in details such as these,
of this creature of the sea.
“some declare it’s ‘very lengthy,’
others say it’s ‘rather short,’
and a captain from the south
says he saw it quite distinctly
with a schooner fully rigged
disappearing down its mouth.
“oh! it’s ‘somewhat like a camel,’
or it’s 1 very like a whale;’
but the truth i now will sing:
it’s like that mrs. harris
mr. dickens wrote about,
there ‘was never no sich thing.’”
great applause followed the singing and presently some one called out, “sing the alphabet song.”
“yes, yes,” cried several fishes at once, “alphabet song, alphabet song.”
so the two soles bowed and commenced as follows:—
alphabeticus.
“ one day a cockney, who shall b
the hero of our song,
went out an irish friend to c
and said he’d not be long.
“this friend lived by the river d.
although an irishman,
he laughed with glee his friend to see,
and thus their converse ran:
“‘bedad, how are ye?’ with a bow,
said paddy, quite a swell;
the cockney said, l’e’oped as’ow
the irishman wus well.’
‘quite well, and f ye’ll come wid me
i’d think it kind; for why?
i’m going to town 011 my g-gee
a large h bone to buy.’
“‘my friend, i will, upon my word’
the cockney then did say,
‘i’ll come with you just like a bird—
a bird they call a j.’
“‘come, thin,’ said pat, ‘no longer waitr
we’re losing half the day;
and sure thin since we may be late
we’d better take the k.’
“and as they to the town did go,
’twas thus the cockney spake:
i’ll buy an l of calico
some handkerchiefs to make.’
my wife can m them, them you know
i’ll buy such things as these—
an old brown n, and perhaps an o,
to hoe our beans and p’s.
“‘and if we pass a barber’s there,
i’ve really half a mind
to have my hair, i do declare,
done in a q behind.’
“‘bedad t’would suit you fine,’ said pat;
‘i’ll have mine done as well.
you r a brick to think of that!
oh! sha’n’t i look a swell!’
“their shopping took the whole day through
there was so much to see;
then paddy said ‘allow me to
scort you home to t.
‘“and u and i by hook or crook
on good things shall be fed.’
and, like sam weller in the book,
‘v vill,’ the cockney said.
“they had their tea, then paddy spoke:
‘i feel in merry case.
shall i tell you a funny joke,
and pull a funny face
“‘to v with laughter up
and stand upon my head?’
‘xactly so,’ the cockney cried,
‘y, certainly,’ he z.”
quite a crowd of fishes had gathered round the two soles while they were singing this song, and after it was all over one of them went round with his hat and collected pennies just as the real niggers do. boy noticed while this was going on that the boat was gradually rising to the surface of the sea, and presently he found that the deck was above the water and that he was breathing air again. he could see that they were approaching a quay with a number of very quaint, old-fashioned buildings beyond it. a great crowd of people were gathered close to the edge of the quay, and were pointing excitedly at something in the water, and as the boat drew nearer to the shore boy could hear a number of directions being shouted at once.
“throw him a rope.”
“nonsense! he is insensible, and wouldn’t see it.”
“well, you swim out to him then.”
“sha’n’t! do it yourself.”
“throw stones at him and try and float him ashore that way.”
this last direction seemed to find most favour, and everybody began throwing stones at the object, whatever it was, in the water.
the boat had now come quite close to the quay, and boy could see that it was poor one-and-nine who was attracting all this attention. he was floating on the top of the water with his eyes shut and half the paint washed off one side of his head he looked the picture of misery, but boy was very glad to find that he was still alive, for he opened his eyes and feebly cried, “don’t throw with such hardness,” whenever a stone accidentally hit him, which was very frequently, for you see there were such a number of people throwing them boy felt very sorry for his old companion, and as soon as the boat reached the quay he ran ashore and hurried to the place where they were trying to land the poor wooden soldier.
they had just succeeded in dragging him ashore with a boat-hook when boy reached the crowd, and a fussy little gentleman was telling the people to “stand back and give him air.”
“who is that gentleman?” asked boy of one of the crowd standing near him.
“why, the m.d., of course,” was the reply.
boy being still in doubt ventured to ask what these letters stood for, and was informed that they stood for mad doctor. “all doctors are mad, you know,” said his informant; “that’s why they are obliged to put those letters after their names.”
boy had never heard of this before, though he had often wondered what the letters meant. he tried to get nearer to one-and-nine, and just caught a glimpse of the m.d. bending over him, and heard the wooden soldier explaining something about “the wetness of the water.”
“yes, yes, my poor fellow,” the m.d. was saying. “don’t try to talk. has he any friends here?” he asked, looking round.
“yes,” cried boy, “i know him,” and the crowd immediately parted and made way for him to get nearer.
“ah!” said the m.d., looking at boy over the top of his gold-rimmed glasses. “there’s, nothing much the matter with him except a slight attack of ‘water on the grain;’” and the m.d. passed his hand over the wooden soldier’s head where the paint was washed off. “a little enamel will soon set that right; go and fetch some,” he continued, turning to a small boy in buttons standing near him. the boy hurried off and soon returned, bearing a large tin of green enamel and a brush. boy looked at him in amazement when he came back, for he seemed to have grown several inches taller in the few minutes that he had been away. no one else, though, seemed to have noticed it, and the m.d. took the brush and began to paint the side of one-and-nine’s head green.
the wooden soldier sighed once or twice, and then sat up and looked around him.
“well, my man, how do you feel now?” said the m.d. kindly.
“oh, a little much more better, thank you,” said one-and-nine faintly. “that’s not a colour of much fashionableness, though, is it?” he asked, looking at the green enamel dubiously.
“it’s a most uncommon colour for the hair,” said the m.d., daubing another patch at the back of his head, “and will go beautifully with your red tunic. there, that will do nicely; take the paint away, bill,” he said to the page-boy.
“very well, sir,” answered a voice a long way up in the air, and turning round, boy could see that bill, as he was called, had grown about twice as tall as he was before. his master did not seem at all surprised, however, and sent him off with the paint.
“and take that medicine to the lord high fiddle-de-dee’s as soon as you get back,” he called out as the boy hurried off, “and say he’s to be well shaken before they give it to him.”
the crowd was beginning to disperse, and one-and-nine seemed to be all right again, although boy thought that he looked rather peculiar with part of his head painted green.
“which way are you going?” asked the m.d., smiling kindly at boy.
“oh! back to the boat again, i think,” answered boy; but when he turned to the quay he found that the boat had disappeared.
“why, it’s gone!” he cried.
“oh yes,” said the m.d., “it only stays here for a few moments; you had better come with me,” he suggested kindly.
boy thought that they might as well do that as anything else, so one-and-nine and he followed the m.d. through the quaint street with the curious old houses.
“there’s my bronchitis,” cried the m.d. suddenly, pointing to a large house on the right, “and there’s my sciatica opposite; i have a whooping cough in the next street, and the measles a little further on,” he added proudly.
boy looked around in alarm, wondering whatever the m.d. meant.
“oh, here comes my lumbago,” he cried, as an old gentleman walking with crutches came hobbling along the street, and then boy could see that he had been referring to his patients.
the m.d. stopped to speak to his lumbago, and boy could see the page-boy, taller than ever, hurrying down the street with a basket on his arm containing some medicine-bottles.
“that boy grows very quickly,” said boy to one-and-nine while they were waiting for the m.d.
“doctors’ bills always do,” said one-and-nine unconcernedly; “that’s how the doctors live, you know.”’
“what do you mean?” exclaimed boy.
“why, when a doctor’s bill grows too long, his patients pay him to get a shorter one—that’s how it is that m.d.‘s change their boys with such frequentness.”
“what a lot of things i am learning to-day, to be sure,” thought boy as the m.d. came back to them.
“most interesting case,” he declared, evidently referring to the old gentleman whom he had just left. “the lumbago is turning to haberdashery in the left leg.” then seeing that boy looked very puzzled he added, “that’s the scientific name for ‘pins and needles,’ you know.”
“oh!” said boy. “have you very many patients?” he asked.
“oh yes,” said the m.d., smiling happily; “this is a most delightfully unhealthy spot. good gracious,” he continued, “there’s that boy fighting again.” and the m.d. strode forward to where a small crowd was gathered round the doctor’s bill and another boy, who were fighting desperately. the m.d. rushed between them, and giving his boy a sharp box on the ears, asked him “what he meant by fighting with a common grocer’s bill.”
“it’s most unseemly,” he went on, “for you to be continually quarrelling with tradesmen’s bills: remember you have a position to keep up, and if you must fight, never let me catch you doing so again with any one less than a lawyer’s bill at least.”
“please, sir,” blubbered the doctor’s bill, “there isn’t a lawyer’s bill my size in the kingdom; the shortest one is twice as long as i am.”
“very well, then, don’t fight at all,” said the m.d. severely, and the doctor’s bill walked away sniffing and sobbing with the basket on his arm, while the grocer’s bill stood a little way off making grimaces at him.
“these bills are a great nuisance,” said the m.d., “and are continually quarrelling; but i must leave you now, for i have to visit the lord high fiddle-de-dee, who is suffering with gout. good-day,” and he hurried up the stone steps of a handsome building on the opposite side of the street.
