"Oh, dear me, no!" the Seal replied. "Only when High Tide falls on — I say! I say! Were you invited?" He broke off to speak to a large grey shape. "I was told no whales were to be admitted!"
"Get out! Get out! No whales allowed!" came a chorus of fishy voices.
The Whale gave a flick of his monstrous tail and darted between two rocks. He had a large pathetic face and great sad eyes which he turned on the children. "It's the same each time," he said, shaking his head. "They say I'm too big, and I eat too much. Can't you persuade them to make an Exception? I do want to see the Distant Relative!"
"Whose distant relative?" Jane began, when the Seal interrupted loudly.
"Now, don't be pathetic, Whale. Get moving! Remember the last Unfortunate Incident. He ate up all the Sardine Sandwiches," the Seal said to Jane behind his flipper.
"No Admission Except on Business. All Riff-Raff keep outside the gates. Off with you, now. Swim along! No nonsense!" A fish with a sharp sword on his nose came bustling across the lawns.
"I never have any fun!" blubbered the Whale, as the Seal and the Swordfish chased him away.
Jane felt very sorry for him. "But, after all," she said, turning to Michael, "he does take up a lot of space!"
But Michael was no longer beside her. He had swum away with one of the mermaids who was dabbing at her face with a little pink sponge.
"Well, skirts, I suppose. And blouses and boots," Jane heard him saying as she swam towards them.
The Mermaid turned to Jane and smiled. "I was asking him about fashions up there—" she nodded upwards through the sea, "and he says they are wearing blouses and boots." She spoke the words with a little laugh as though they could not be true.
"And coats," Jane added. "And galoshes, of course!"
"Galoshes?" The Mermaid raised her eyebrows.
"To keep our feet dry," Jane explained.
The Mermaid gave a trill of laughter. "How very extraordinary!" she said. "Down here, we prefer to keep everything wet!" She turned on her tail to swim away when a clear voice suddenly hailed her.
"Hullo, Anemone!" it cried. And out from behind a bed of lilies a silver shape came leaping. At the sight of the children it stopped in mid-water and stared at them with its great bright eyes. "Why, Bless my Sole!" it cried in surprise. "Whoever caught those creatures?"
"Nobody," tinkled the Mermaid gaily, as she whispered behind her hand.
"Oh, really? How very delightful!" said the fish, with a supercilious smile.
"I suppose I should introduce myself. I'm the Deep-Sea Salmon," he explained, preening his silver fins. "King of the Fish, you know, and all that. I dare say you've heard of me now and again!" Indeed, by the way he swaggered and preened, you would have thought there was nothing else worth hearing about!
"Refreshments! Refreshments!" said a gloomy voice, as a Pike, with the air of an elderly butler, came hovering past with a tray.
"Help yourself!" said the Salmon, bowing to Jane, "A Sardine Sandwich or a Salted Shrimp? Or Jelly— the fishy kind, of course! And what about you—?" he turned to Michael. "Some Sea-Cow milk or Barnacle Beer? Or perhaps you'd prefer just Plain Sea Water!"
"I was given to h'understand, your 'Ighness, that the h'young gentleman h'wished for Port!" The Pike stared before him gloomily as he held out the tray towards them.
"Then Port he shall have!" said the Salmon imperiously, as he whisked a dark red drink from the tray.
With a start of surprise, Michael remembered his wish. He took the glass and sipped it eagerly. "It's igzactly like Raspberry Fizz!" he cried.
"Good!" said the Salmon conceitedly, as though he had made the Port himself. "Now, how would you like to look at the Catch? They're probably reeling the last ones in and we'll just have time if we hurry!"
"I wonder what has been caught!" thought Jane, as they darted along beside the Salmon. The sea-lanes by now were crowded with fish who were leaping towards the lawn.
"Now! Now! Remember whom you're pushing!" said the Salmon in a haughty voice as he scattered them right and left. "My Fins and Flippers! Look at those children!" He pointed to a group of Sea-Urchins who were tumbling noisily by. "Schoolmaster! Keep an eye on your pupils! This Ocean's becoming an absolute Bear Garden!"
"Eh what?" said an absent-minded fish who was floating along with his nose in a book. "Here, Winkle and Twinkle! And you, too, Spiky! Behave — or I shan't let you go to the Party!"
The urchins looked at each other and grinned. Then they solemnly swam along with the School-master, looking as though butter wouldn't melt in their mouths.
"Ah, here we are!" cried the Salmon gaily, as he led the children round a cluster of coral.
On a large flat rock sat a row of fish, all solemnly staring upward. Each fish held a fishing-rod in his fin and watched his line with an earnest gaze as it ran up through the water.
"The Angler-fish," the Salmon explained. "Talk softly! They don't like to be disturbed."
"But—" whispered Jane, looking very surprised, "the lines are going upwards!"
The Salmon stared. "Where else would they go?" he wanted to know. "You could hardly expect them to go downwards, could you? Bait!" he added, pointing to several water-proof bags that were filled with pastry tarts.
"But — what do they catch?" whispered Michael hoarsely.
"Oh, humans, mostly," the Salmon replied. "You can get almost anyone with a Strawberry Tart. They've taken a pretty good catch already. Look at them squirming and twitching!"
He flicked his tail at a nearby cave and the children gasped with astonishment. For there, looking very cross and disgruntled, stood a cluster of human beings. Men in dark goggles and summer hats were shaking their fists and stamping. Three elderly ladies were waving umbrellas and a younger one in rubber boots was wringing her hands in despair. Beside her holding a shrimping net, stood two disconsolate children.
"Well, how do you like it?" jeered the Salmon. "I must say you look extremely funny! Exactly like fish out of water!"
The humans all gave a furious snort and turned their backs on the Salmon. And at the same moment, from somewhere above, a wild cry rent the sea.
"Let me go, I say! Take this hook out at once! How dare you do such a thing to me!"
One of the Angler-fish, smiling quietly, began to reel in his line.
"Take it out, I tell you!" came the voice again.
And down through the sea, with a rush of bubbles, came a most extraordinary figure. Its body was clothed in a thick tweed coat; a grey veil floated from the hat on its head; and upon its feet were thick wool stockings and large-size button boots.
Michael opened his mouth and stared and made a gargling noise.
"Jane! Do you see? I believe it's—"
"Miss Andrew!" said Jane, who was gargling, too.
And Miss Andrew indeed it was. Down she came, coughing and choking and shouting. The Angler-fish jerked the hook from her mouth and pushed her towards the cave.
"Outrageous! Preposterous!" she spluttered. "How was I to know that Tart had a hook on it! You villains!" She shook her fist at the Anglers. "I shall write to The Times! I shall have you fried!"
"Look at her writhing!" crowed the Salmon. "She's a whopper! She'll wriggle for hours and hours."
Jane felt that Miss Andrew deserved all she got, but she looked at the children anxiously. How terrible, she thought to herself, if she had been caught — or Michael!
"What will the Anglers do with them?" she asked the Salmon earnestly.
"Oh, throw them back again, of course! We only catch them for sport, you know. They're far too tough for eating."
"Hey! Come along, Salmon!" called the Seal from the distance. "We can't let the children miss the Greeting. And she's due to arrive any minute."