ning, lay to, hauled
up our wine-casks, and hove them overboard, tied one to the other by a
long line. Then the crew took to the boats and rowed shorewards,
singing as they went, and drawing after them the long bobbing
procession of casks, like a mile of porpoises. On the sands they had
horses waiting, which dragged the casks up the steep street of the
little town with a fine rush and clatter and scramble. When the last
cask was in, we went and refreshed and rested, and sat late into the
night, drinking with our friends, and next morning I took to the great
olive-woods for a spell and a rest. For now I had done with islands
for the time, and ports and shipping were plentiful; so I led a lazy
life among the peasants, lying and watching them work, or stretched
high on the hillside with the blue Mediterranean far below me. And so
at length, by easy stages, and partly on foot, partly by sea, to
Marseilles, and the meeting of old shipmates, and the visiting of
great ocean-bound vessels, and feasting once more. Talk of
shell-fish! Why, sometimes I dream of the shell-fish of Marseilles,
and wake up crying!"

[Illustration: _"It's a hard life, by all accounts," murmured the
Rat_]

"That reminds me," said the polite Water Rat; "you happened to mention
that you were hungry, and I ought to have spoken earlier. Of course,
you will stop and take your mid-day meal with me? My hole is close by;
it is some time past noon, and you are very welcome to whatever there
is."

"Now I call that kind and brotherly of you," said the Sea Rat. "I was
indeed hungry when I sat down, and ever since I inadvertently happened
to mention shell-fish, my pangs have been extreme. But couldn't you
fetch it along out here? I am none too fond of going under hatches,
unless I'm obliged to; and then, while we eat, I could tell you more
concerning my voyages and the pleasant life I lead--at least, it is
very pleasant to me, and by your attention I judge it commends itself
to you; whereas if we go indoors it is a hundred to one that I shall
presently fall asleep."

"That is indeed an excellent suggestion," said the Water Rat, and
hurried off home. There he got out the luncheon-basket and packed a
simple meal, in which, remembering the stranger's origin and
preferences, he took care to include a yard of long French bread, a
sausage out of which the garlic sang, some cheese which lay down and
cried, and a long-necked straw-covered flask wherein lay bottled
su