HOW THE WHALE GOT HIS THROAT
N the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a
Whale, and he ate fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish,
and the crab and the dab, and the plaice and the dace, and the
skate and his mate, and the mackereel and the pickereel, and the
really truly twirly-whirly eel. All the fishes he could find in
all the sea he ate with his mouth--so! Till at last there was
only one small fish left in all the sea, and he was a small
'Stute Fish, and he swam a little behind the Whale's right ear,
so as to be out of harm's way. Then the Whale stood up on his
tail and said, 'I'm hungry.' And the small 'Stute Fish said in a
small 'stute voice, 'Noble and generous Cetacean, have you ever
tasted Man?'
'No,' said the Whale. 'What is it like?'
'Nice,' said the small 'Stute Fish. 'Nice but nubbly.'
'Then fetch me some,' said the Whale, and he made the sea froth
up with his tail.
'One at a time is enough,' said the 'Stute Fish. 'If you swim to
latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West (that is magic), you
will find, sitting on a raft, in the middle of the sea, with
nothing on but a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of
suspenders (you must not forget the suspenders,
Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, one ship-wrecked Mariner,
who, it is only fair to tell you, is a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.'
So the Whale swam and swam to latitude Fifty North, longitude
Forty West, as fast as he could swim, and on a raft, in the
middle of the sea, with nothing to wear except a pair of blue
canvas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must particularly
remember the suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, he
found one single, solitary shipwrecked Mariner, trailing his
toes in the water. (He had his mummy's leave to paddle, or else
he would never have done it, because he was a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.)
Then the Whale opened his mouth back and back and back till it
nearly touched his tail, and he swallowed the shipwrecked
Mariner, and the raft he was sitting on, and his blue canvas
breeches, and the suspenders (which you must not forget), and the
jack-knife--He swallowed them all down into his warm, dark,
inside cup-boards, and then he smacked his lips--so, and turned
round three times on his tail.
THIS is the picture of the Whale swallowing the Mariner with his
infinite-resource-and-sagacity, and the raft and the jack-knife and his suspenders,
which you must not forget. The buttony-things are the Mariner's suspenders,
and you can see the knife close by them. He is sitting on the raft,
but it has tilted up sideways, so you don't see much of it. The whity
thing by the Mariner's left hand is a piece of wood that he was trying to
row the raft with when the Whale came along. The piece of wood is
called the jaws-of-a-gaff. The Mariner left it outside when he went in.
The Whale's name was Smiler, and the Mariner was called Mr. Henry
Albert Bivvens, A.B. The little 'Stute Fish is hiding under the Whale's
tummy, or else I would have drawn him. The reason that the sea looks
so ooshy-skooshy is because the Whale is sucking it all into his mouth
so as to suck in Mr. Henry Albert Bivvens and the raft and the jack-knife
and the suspenders. You must never forget the suspenders. |
But as soon as the Mariner, who was a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity,
found himself truly inside the Whale's warm, dark,
inside cup-boards, he stumped and he jumped and he thumped and
he bumped, and he pranced and he danced, and he banged and he
clanged, and he hit and he bit, and he leaped and he creeped, and
he prowled and he howled, and he hopped and he dropped, and he
cried and he sighed, and he crawled and he bawled, and he stepped
and he lepped, and he danced hornpipes where he shouldn't, and
the Whale felt most unhappy indeed. (Have you forgotten the
suspenders?)
So he said to the 'Stute Fish, 'This man is very nubbly, and
besides he is making me hiccough. What shall I do?'
'Tell him to come out,' said the 'Stute Fish.
So the Whale called down his own throat to the shipwrecked
Mariner, 'Come out and behave yourself. I've got the hiccoughs.'
'Nay, nay!' said the Mariner. 'Not so, but far otherwise. Take
me to my natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and I'll
think about it.' And he began to dance more than ever.
'You had better take him home,' said the 'Stute Fish to the
Whale. 'I ought to have warned you that he is a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.'
So the Whale swam and swam and swam, with both flippers and his
tail, as hard as he could for the hiccoughs; and at last he saw
the Mariner's natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and
he rushed half-way up the beach, and opened his mouth wide and
wide and wide, and said, 'Change here for Winchester, Ashuelot,
Nashua, Keene, and stations on the Fitchburg Road;' and just as
he said 'Fitch' the Mariner walked out of his mouth.
But while the Whale had been swimming, the Mariner, who
was indeed a person of infinite-resource-and-sagacity, had taken
his jack-knife and cut up the raft into a little square grating
all running criss-cross, and he had tied it firm with his
suspenders (now, you know why you were not to forget the
suspenders!), and he dragged that grating good and tight into the
Whale's throat, and there it stuck! Then he recited the
following Sloka, which, as you have not heard it, I will now
proceed to relate--
By means of a grating
I have stopped your ating.
For the Mariner he was also an Hi-ber-ni-an. And he stepped out
on the shingle, and went home to his mother, who had given him
leave to trail his toes in the water; and he married and lived
happily ever afterward. So did the Whale. But from that day on,
the grating in his throat, which he could neither cough up nor
swallow down, prevented him eating anything except very, very
small fish; and that is the reason why whales nowadays never eat
men or boys or little girls.
The small 'Stute Fish went and hid himself in the mud under the
Door-sills of the Equator. He was afraid that the Whale might be
angry with him.
HERE is the Whale looking for the little 'Stute Fish, who is hiding under
the Door-sills of the Equator. The little 'Stute Fish's name was Pingle.
He is hiding among the roots of the big seaweed that grows in front of
the Doors of the Equator. I have drawn the Doors of the Equator. They
are shut. They are always kept shut, because a door aught always to be
kept shut. The ropy-thing right across it is the Equator itself; and the
things that look like rocks are the two giants Moar and Koar, that keep
the Equator in order. They drew the shadow-pictures on the doors of the
Equator, and they carved all those twisty fishes under the Doors. The
beaky-fish are called beaked Dolphins, and the other fish with the queer
heads are called Hammer-headed Sharks. The Whale never found the
little 'Stute Fish till he got over his temper, and then they became good
friends again. |
The Sailor took the jack-knife home. He was wearing the blue
canvas breeches when he walked out on the shingle. The
suspenders were left behind, you see, to tie the grating with;
and that is the end of that tale.
WHEN the cabin port-holes are dark and green
    Because of the seas outside;
When the ship goes wop (with a wiggle between)
And the steward falls into the soup-tureen,
    And the trunks begin to slide;
When Nursey lies on the floor in a heap,
And Mummy tells you to let her sleep,
And you aren't waked or washed or dressed,
Why, then you will know (if you haven't guessed)
You're 'Fifty North and Forty West!'
Back to contents, or on to the next...
|