IN the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a Whale, ae fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish, and the crab and the dab, and the plaid 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 Whales right ear, so as to be out of harms way. Then the Whale stood up on his tail and said, Im hungry. And the small Stute Fish said in a small stute voioble and generous Ceta, have you ever tasted Man?
No, said the Whale. What is it like?
Nice, said the small Stute Fish. nubbly.
Thech me some, said the Whale, and he made the sea froth up with his tail.
O 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 vas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must _not_ fet 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-resourd-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 vas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must particularly remember the suspenders, Best Beloved), _and_ a jaife, he found one single, solitary shipwrecked Marirailing his toes ier. (He had his mummys leave to paddle, or else he would never have do, because he was a man of infinite- resourd-sagacity.)
Then the Whale opened his mouth bad bad back till it nearly touched his tail, and he swallowed the shipwrecked Mariner, and the raft he was sitting on, and his blue vas breeches, and the suspenders (whiust_ not fet), _and_ the jaife--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 ihe Whales warm, dark, inside cup-boards, he stumped and he jumped ahumped and he bumped, and he pranced and he danced, and he banged and he ged, a a, 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, aepped and he lepped, and he danced hornpipes where he shouldnt, and the Whale felt most unhappy indeed. (_Have_ you fotten 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 e out, said the Stute Fish.
So the Whale called down his own throat to the shipwrecked Mariner, e out and behave yourself. Ive 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 Ill 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-resourd-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 Mariners natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion