TABLE OF CONTENTS:
HOW THE WHALE GOT HIS THROAT
HOW THE CAMEL GOT HIS HUMP
HOW THE RHINOCEROS GOT HIS SKIN
HOW THE LEOPARD GOT HIS SPOTS
THE ELEPHANT'S CHILD
THE SING-SONG OF OLD MAN KANGAROO
THE BEGINNING OF THE ARMADILLOS
HOW THE FIRST LETTER WAS WRITTEN
HOW THE ALPHABET WAS MADE
THE CRAB THAT PLAYED WITH THE SEA
THE CAT THAT WALKED BY HIMSELF
THE BUTTERFLY THAT STAMPED
HOW THE WHALE GOT HIS THROAT
IN 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.
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.'
