made the mice fairly
squeak with amazement and delight. It was a vast room, all of white
coral, with lovely pictures painted on the walls and ceiling, and as
full as it could be of little tiny sea-children, frolicking about, and
playing just as many pranks as land-babies play. They surrounded the
children with exclamations of wonder and delight. Children must have a
language of their own, certainly, for though the Indian sea-babies knew
no more of English than the American babies did of Hindostanee, it was
not ten minutes before they were all perfectly good friends, and were
playing together in the most delightful way. Nibble and Roger were
almost breaking their necks in the vain endeavor to turn somersaults as
fast as their little friends with the tails. Brighteyes was hugging and
petting "the loveliest baby in the world, if it _hasn't_ any toes,"
which she had taken from its nurse's arms, while Fluff and a little
mermaiden of her own age were deeply confidential in a corner, on the
subject of their respective dolls. Fancy, will you, children all, a
white coral doll with a long pearly tail, and hair of pale yellow sea
moss, very fine and soft! Truly, it was a lovely creature, and Fluff
would gladly have exchanged the most cherished of her waxen babies for
it. The little mermaid sang pretty songs to her dolly, and rocked it in
a cradle of amber with sea-weed curtains. Presently Patty said, "Little
Fluff, will you not sing an English song for my sea-babies? sing
something about flowers and fairies, for those are things that we have
not here, and the little ones like to hear about them."

So my Fluff sang this little song, which she called "The Fairy Wedding:"

[Illustration]

Blue bell, bonny bell, ring for the wedding!
Gallant young Hyacinth's married the rose;
Here we all wait for the marriage procession,
Standing up high on our tippy-toe-toes.

Blue bell, bonny bell, ring for the wedding!
First the three ushers on grasshoppers ride;
Coxcomb, Larkspur, and gallant Sweet William,
Handsome young dandies as ever I spied.

Here in a coach come the bride's rich relations,
Old Madame Damask and old Mr. Moss;
Greatly I fear she has not won their blessing,
Else they'd not look so uncommonly cross.

Here comes his Excellence Baron de Goldburg,
Leading the Dowager Duche