AT THE FISHERMAN'S CAVE--FRED'S AQUARIUM.
"And where," said Mrs. Fielding, "are the dear brave children who
saved my darling's life?"
"Here is Fred, mamma, and yonder is Toddie, hiding behind her daddy's
legs."
"Toddie," said Fred, "take your thumb out of your mouth."
"Come to me both of you. Dear, dear, it was quite an adventure I'm
sure. What dear children! I'm sure they ought both to have the
Society's medal. Very poor, aren't they? I must do something for
them."
These last words, though addressed quietly to Frank, were loud enough
for all to hear.
"Oh, ma!" he said.
But the lady heeded not.
"And you are the fisherman poet, are you not, sir?" she said, turning
to the bard.
The old man was standing as erect as a statue, his bonnet in his
hand, his hair streaming over his neck, and his face somewhat set and
stern. He really looked noble. Mrs. Fielding must have felt he did,
or she would never have added that little word "sir" in addressing
him.
"I've heard of you so often, in really good society too. You write
those beautiful verses in a cave, do you not? Why they are in every
good magazine. Do you know I _should_ like to see your cave. So
romantic! Might I, Mr.----A----."
"Arundel. My cave is a very humble place, Mrs. Fielding; but if you
will come with me you shall see it. The road is rough though."
"Oh, I'm very strong!"
Away along by the top of the cliffs he led her for quite a quarter of
a mile. Here some bushes grew, and among them was a half-hidden
staircase leading downwards into the very bosom of the rocks. The
steps had been cut a hundred years ago perhaps by smugglers. No one
ever yet found out the mystery of Talbot's cave.
The lady condescended to take the bard's hand, and he led her down.
It was almost dark at the bottom, but once in the strange cave it was
light enough. Here were two windows, or rather ports, and one of
these the bard threw open. Right down beneath was the deep sea, with
clear water over shining yellow sand, so clear you could see the
beautiful medusæ or jelly fish floating about like
splendidly-jewelled parasols. Between the ports was the poet's rough
deal table. Here was a bench of deal, and a tall-backed deal chair.
The floor was laid with wood, and a great ship-lamp swung from the
roof.
The irregular walls were the rough rocks, but much to Mrs. Fielding's
amazement, these walls were adorned with water-colour and oil-colour
paintings, that to her seemed priceless.
I had almost forgotten to say that there was a fireplace in this
cave, and evidence enough too that Eean often had tea here.
But it was the pictures that most attracted the lady's notice.
"These," she said, "are not mere copies?"
"Yes, madam," said the bard, smiling somewhat sadly, "every one of
them, but copies from Nature. Mostly things I daubed when travelling
abroad, they serve just to remind me of scenes I have passed through
during a somewhat chequered career.
"I don't know," said Mrs. Fielding with innocent candour, "which to
admire the most, yourself or your surroundings."
"Round every one of these picture things, madam, I have to weave a
tale for my foster-children, who come here in the summer and even
winter evenings.
"How enchanting. Might my dear boy come sometimes too?"
Eean stretched out his hand as if by sudden impulse, and Mrs.
Fielding clasped it cordially.
"Now you do delight me, madam. I love children and your boy is a
gentleman."
"I'm so pleased."
Then turning to the windows.
"You will observe," he said, "that the glass in these ports is of
very great thickness. Green seas have often dashed over them, yet we
have never been flooded. Only on stormy nights I lower great wooden
ports."
He untied a chain as he spoke, and down with a thud came a shutter of
wood and iron.
"Safe you see against the mightiest gale that ever blew."
"How interesting. The sea too looks charming to-day from your
windows. Was it out yonder my poor darling was nearly drowned?"
"Yes, madam."
There was a moment's surcease of talking, during which nothing could
be heard but the gentle lap-lapping of the waves on the black rocks
beneath.
"Are you fond of animal life, madam?
"Will you be startled if I introduce to you one or two of my pets?"
"But they won't hurt?"
"No, they are good-mannered crabs."
As he spoke the bard took from his pocket a piece of string to which
was attached a morsel of fish. This he lowered into the sea through
the open port, then slowly drew it up again.
A moment afterwards there came crawling up two immense crabs, and
they positively appeared to enter arm in arm, side by side certainly.
They paused for a moment on the outside rocky ledge, and gazed at the
lady with their stalky eyes.
Seeming perfectly satisfied, they then advanced, and Mrs. Fielding
noticed that each had a red cross painted across his dark shell.
The bard quietly spread before them their dinner, and they ate it
greedily, rolling their eyes about as they did so with an appearance
of great satisfaction.
"Shall I make them dance?" said the poet.
"Oh, do, sir!"
The poet held a morsel of white meat of some kind above them, and in
a moment they were standing on one end, hand in hand, or rather claw
in claw, dancing round and round and all about in the most comical
manner.
The lady laughed till the cave roof rang again.
"Of all things I have ever seen," she said, "that is the most
ridiculous."
Then one more morsel was given to each, a red handkerchief was waved,
and away the strange performers shuffled, and slowly disappeared over
the ledge.
"Now, Mrs. Fielding, what do you think of my red cross knights?"
"Delightful! oh, delightful! But pray, Mr. Arundel, what are the red
crosses for?"
"Oh! so that they shall be known by fishermen. They have often been
captured in the lobster creels, but no one would think of killing
them."
"I have to thank you for such a pleasant hour," said Mrs. Fielding,
as they once more emerged upon the cliff top. "Oh, look! Yonder
comes my boy with your dear mite on the Shetland pony."
Toddie waved her hand to Daddy Pop.
"Daddy! Daddy!" she shouted as soon as near enough to be heard,
"I'se a weal lady now. All I wants is a widing-habit."
"My dear," said Mrs. Fielding, "a riding-habit would hide the beauty
of those shapely legs and feet."
Toddie looked at her, and at once commenced to suck her thumb.
"Why do you suck your thumb, dear?"
"Oh, I always suck my fumb when I'se finking!"
"And what are you thinking about, child? What makes you look at me
so?"
"Is oo Flank's mammy?"
"Yes, pet."
"Oh-h! Well, I likes Flank mostest. Flank," she added, with the air
of a young princess, "we will wide back adain, please."
And away they went at a mad trot, Frank shouting and Toddie screaming.
"Mamma," said Frank when they met at the cottage, "this is a school
holiday with Fred. Please may I stay till evening?"
"Did ever I deny you anything, child? But be sure you're home in
time. Good-bye, Mr. Arundel. Good-bye, dear children. Drive on,
John."
"Dood-bye," shouted Toddie, so gleefully that it must have been
evident even to Mrs. Fielding herself that Toddie was glad to be rid
of her.
"Now," cried the little madcap, "I feels full of joy up to my mouf.
Tippetty and I is off for a wun on the beach. When Tippetty and I
has our wun we'll come back for you boys, and to-night we'll have tea
in the whale. Tippetty! Tippetty! oh, here tomes Tip!"
And off bounded Toddy and Tip, and no one seeing the two scampering
across the level sands would have cared to say which was the wilder
or which the defter.
Toddie's little arms and legs were bare, she had pulled off her red
fisherman's cap to wave it above her head, and as she dashed on to
meet the roaring sea her hair floated straight behind her in the
breeze. And Tippetty, the dachshund, barking with all his might,
came just a little in advance.
This spoke volumes for the strength of Tip's lungs. Though lovely
and hound-like in head, like all dachshunds, he was bandy in legs,
very low to the ground, and of tremendous length. So long and low
indeed was he, that when at the gallop his black body wriggled like
an eel. So long was he that he could not jump on a chair. He could
put his two paws and head up, but if asked to spring, he looked about
him wisely at his tail end, as much as to say,
"I would jump up willingly with my front part, don't you know? but
then the other end of the procession wouldn't come along."
Tippetty was one of the wisest and kindest-hearted wee dogs that ever
lapped milk.
He was the pet of the village, and no wonder, for Tippetty dug bait
for everybody.
"Is Tip at home?" a fisherman would say to Eppie as he passed
seawards.
"Tip, Tip," Eppie would cry, "you're wanted." And off he would go.
He knew the worms' holes in the sand, and none could go too deep for
Tip. With his little mole's feet and his wee bandy legs he would
throw the sand up behind him as if he were a living mitrailleuse, and
soon expose the coveted bait.
The first visit of the children to-day was to the aquarium, and Frank
listened with delight to the terrible story of Tom, the naughty
dolly-fish.
"But what a good thing," said Frank seriously, "that you were there
putting back the dolly-fish. Else I should have been drowned."
"Oh," said Toddie, nodding her demure morsel of a head, "that was
Plovidence, Flank. Oh, yes I 'ssure oo, Flank, it was Plovidence,
'cause Daddy Pop told me. Now then."
After they had seen all the queer creatures in the aquarium, and
every creature's life history had been told to Frank by Toddie, they
went off to the woods. "Dood-bye, dear, dear blennies," said Toddie,
stroking these marvellous wee fishes with a morsel of seaweed, "be
dood tsilden and oo mammy won't be long away."
Three of these were lying on the centre island of the aquarium, like
so many miniature walruses, and so tame were they that they never
moved when Toddie stroked them.
This children's aquarium had been got up by Daddy Pop, and he
explained the nature of every new pot that was put into it. But he
had never seen the dogfish Tom.
Daddy Pop believed, and rightly too, that letting children have a
hobby keeps them out of many a danger, and when that hobby was the
keeping of living pets in a condition of nature, it became in itself
an education, and brought the bairnies into direct communication with
the Creator, who loves all things He has made.
What fun they had in the woods, but they went to show Frank the
terrible cliff over which Daddy Pop had fallen when a young man.
The tree beneath was marked by a cross deeply cut in the bark.
By the time they got back, Daddy was ready to accompany them all to
have tea in Toddie's whale.