TROT AND CAP'N BILL
_Chap. 1._]
"Nobody," said Cap'n Bill, solemnly, "ever sawr a mermaid an' lived totell the tale."
"Why not?" asked Trot, looking earnestly up into the old sailor's face.
They were seated on a bench built around a giant acacia tree that grewjust at the edge of the bluff. Below them rolled the blue waves of thegreat Pacific. A little way behind them was the house, a neat framecottage painted white and surrounded by huge eucalyptus and peppertrees. Still farther behind that--a quarter of a mile distant but builtupon a bend of the coast--was the village, overlooking a pretty bay.
Cap'n Bill and Trot came often to this tree, to sit and watch the oceanbelow them. The sailor man had one "meat leg" and one "hickory leg,"and he often said the wooden one was the best of the two. Once Cap'nBill had commanded and owned the "Anemone," a trading schooner thatplied along the coast; and in those days Charlie Griffiths, who wasTrot's father, had been the Captain's mate. But ever since Cap'n Bill'saccident, when he lost his leg, Charlie Griffiths had been the captainof the little schooner while his old master lived peacefully ashorewith the Griffiths family.
This was about the time Trot was born, and the old sailor became veryfond of the baby girl. Her real name was Mayre, but when she grewbig enough to walk she took so many busy little steps every day thatboth her mother and Cap'n Bill nicknamed her "Trot," and so she wasthereafter mostly called.
It was the old sailor who taught the child to love the sea--to love italmost as much as he and her father did--and these two, who representedthe "beginning and the end of life" became firm friends and constantcompanions.
"Why hasn't anybody seen a mermaid and lived?" asked Trot, again.
"'Cause mermaids is fairies, an' ain't meant to be seen by us mortalfolk," replied Cap'n Bill.
"But if anyone happens to see 'em, what then, Cap'n?"
"Then," he answered, slowly wagging his head, "the mermaids give 'em asmile an' a wink, an' they dives into the water an' gets drownded."
TROT]
"S'pose they know how to swim, Cap'n Bill?"
"That don't make any diff'rence, Trot. The mermaids live deep down, an'the poor mortals never come up again."
The little girl was thoughtful for a moment.
"But why do folks dive in the water when the mermaids smile an' wink?"she asked.
"Mermaids," he said, gravely, "is the most beautifulest creatures inthe world--or the water, either. You know what they're like, Trot;they's got a lovely lady's form down to the waist, an' then the otherhalf of 'em's a fish, with green an' purple an' pink scales all adownit."
"Have they got arms, Cap'n Bill?"
"'Course, Trot; arms like any other lady. An' pretty faces that smilean' look mighty sweet an' fetchin'. Their hair is long an' soft an'silky, an' floats all around 'em in the water. When they comes up atopthe waves they wring the water out 'n their hair and sing songs thatgo right to your heart. If anybody is unlucky enough to be 'round jes'then, the beauty o' them mermaids an' their sweet songs charm 'em likemagic; so's they plunge into the waves to get to the mermaids. But themermaids haven't any hearts, Trot, no more 'n a fish has; so they laughswhen the poor people drown, an' don't care a fig. That's why I says,an' I says it true, that nobody never sawr a mermaid an' lived to tellthe tale."
"Nobody?" asked Trot.
"Nobody a tall."
"Then how do you know, Cap'n Bill?" asked the little girl, looking upinto his face with big round eyes.
Cap'n Bill coughed. Then he tried to sneeze, to gain time. Then hetook out his red cotton handkerchief and wiped his bald head with it,rubbing hard so as to make him think clearer.
"Look, Trot; ain't that a brig out there?" he inquired, pointing to asail far out in the sea.
"How does anybody know about mermaids, if those who have seen themnever lived to tell about them?" she asked again.
"Know what about 'em, Trot?"
"About their green and pink scales, and pretty songs, and wet hair."
"They don't know, I guess. But mermaids jes' natcherly has to be likethat, or they wouldn't be mermaids."
She thought this over.
"Somebody _must_ have lived, Cap'n Bill," she declared, positively."Other fairies have been seen by mortals; why not mermaids?"
"P'raps they have, Trot; p'raps they have," he answered, musingly."I'm tellin' you as it was told to me; but I never stopped to inquireinto the matter so clost, before. Seems like folks wouldn't know somuch about mermaids if they hadn't seen 'em; an' yet accordin' to allaccounts the victim is bound to get drownded."
"P'raps," suggested Trot, softly, "someone found a fotygraph of one of'em."
"That might 'a' been, Trot; that might 'a' been," answered Cap'n Bill.
A nice man was Cap'n Bill, and Trot knew he always liked to explaineverything so she could fully understand it. The aged sailor was not avery tall man, and some people might have called him chubby, or evenfat. He wore a blue sailor shirt, with white anchors worked on thecorners of the broad square collar, and his blue trousers were verywide at the bottom. He always wore one trouser leg over his woodenlimb and sometimes it would flutter in the wind like a flag, becauseit was so wide and the wooden leg so slender. His rough kersey coatwas a pea-jacket and came down to his waist line. In the big pocketsof his jacket he kept a wonderful jackknife, and his pipe and tobacco,and many bits of string, and matches and keys and lots of other things.Whenever Cap'n Bill thrust a chubby hand into one of his pockets Trotwatched him with breathless interest, for she never knew what he wasgoing to pull out.
The old sailor's face was brown as a berry. He had a fringe of hairaround the back of his head and a fringe of whisker around the edgeof his face, running from ear to ear and underneath his chin. His eyeswere light blue and kind in expression. His nose was big and broad andhis few teeth were not strong enough to crack nuts with.
Trot liked Cap'n Bill and had a great deal of confidence in his wisdom,and a great admiration for his ability to make tops and whistles andtoys with that marvelous jackknife of his. In the village were manyboys and girls of her own age, but she never had as much fun playingwith them as she had wandering by the sea accompanied by the old sailorand listening to his fascinating stories.
She knew all about the Flying Dutchman, and Davy Jones' Locker, andCaptain Kidd, and how to harpoon a whale or dodge an iceberg, or lassoa seal. Cap'n Bill had been everywhere in the world, almost, on hismany voyages. He had been wrecked on desert islands like RobinsonCrusoe and been attacked by cannibals, and had a host of other excitingadventures. So he was a delightful comrade for the little girl, andwhatever Cap'n Bill knew Trot was sure to know in time.
"How do the mermaids live?" she asked. "Are they in caves, or just inthe water like fishes, or how?"
"Can't say, Trot," he replied. "I've asked divers about that, but noneof 'em ever run acrost a mermaid's nest yet, as I've heard of."
"If they're fairies," she said, "their homes must be very pretty."
"Mebbe so, Trot; but damp. They're sure to be damp, you know."
"I'd like to see a mermaid, Cap'n Bill," said the child, earnestly.
"What, an' git drownded?" he exclaimed.
"No; and live to tell the tale. If they're beautiful, and laughing, andsweet, there can't be much harm in them, I'm sure."
"Mermaids is mermaids," remarked Cap'n Bill, in his most solemn voice."It wouldn't do us any good to mix up with 'em, Trot."
"May--re! May--re!" called a voice from the house.
"Yes, Mamma!"
"You an' Cap'n Bill come in to supper."