The Missing Prince

Boy thought this was a very curious way of beginning a game, and he was more surprised still when, without the slightest warning, all the rest of the fishes began throwing balls at him as hard as they could, hitting him pretty sharply in several places, and of course knocking the bails off the stumps at once.

“How’s that, Umpire?” they shouted all together.

The fish who had handed Boy the bat promptly replied “Out,” and the others threw their caps up into the air excitedly and called out that they had won the game.

“That’s not the way to play cricket,” cried Boy, throwing down his bat in disgust.

“Who says it isn’t?” demanded one of the fishes, coming up to him.

“I say so,” maintained Boy stoutly.

“Very well, then I’ll fight you for it,” declared the fish, throwing off his coat.

“I’m sure you won’t,” said Boy, laughing at the very idea.

“Yah! cowardy, cowardy custard,” cried the fishes, dancing around him. “Afraid to fight; dear little mammy’s baby.”

Boy very wisely determined not to heed their taunts and walked back to the College, leaving the quarrelsome little fishes to themselves.

The sound of music from one of the class-rooms told him where he should find the Professor, and looking in at the window he saw the Crab standing beside a blackboard with notes on it waving a bâton, while a number of Oysters in rows were singing with their shells wide open.

“Come in,” he cried, when he saw Boy, and Boy went round to the door and entered the room.

“We have nearly finished,” said Professor Crab. “Perhaps you would like to hear the Molluscs sing.”

“Very much indeed,” said Boy, taking a seat on one of the forms.

The Crab counted “One, two, three,” beating time with his bâton, and the Oysters started singing the following song: —

“THE DEAR LITTLE OYSTER.”

“There was once a little Oyster, living underneath the sea,
Who was good as gold and, consequently, happy as could be;
She kept the house as tidy and as clean as a new’ pin,
And helped her Ma to make the beds they tuck the Oysters in.

“We soon discovered she possessed a most uncommon voice,
And Operatic singing then became her ardent choice;
So diligently practised she her lessons and her scales,
That she quickly gained the medal given by the Prince of
Whales.

“Of course she now was far too good to waste her life down
here,
So reluctantly we gave her up to grace another sphere:
She, in a barrel nicely packed, was sent to Mr. Gatti,
And under his most skilful care became an Oyster Patti.”

Boy was very pleased indeed with this song, which the First Class in Molluscs sang very well, and clapped vigorously.

“I’m glad you like their singing,” said the Professor, looking pleased at Boy’s approval.

“That will do for to-day,” he added, dismissing the class, and the Oysters went out of the room in single file, each one making a little bow as he passed the Professor.

“Now what shall we do with ourselves for the rest of the day?” said the Crab, when they had all gone, for there is a half-holiday, you know. Would you like to go for a trip to Zum?” he asked.

“Oh yes, please,” answered Boy, who remembered that that was where One-and-Nine said that they should meet again.

So Professor Crab put his hat on, and after locking the class-room door set out with Boy for the Station of the Submarine Navigation Company.

CHAPTER IV. – M.D. AND THE DOCTOR’S BILL

THEY found a boat waiting when they reached the Station, and Professor Crab having purchased the tickets they went on board the singular conveyance. They had hardly taken their seats amongst a number of respectably dressed fishes when the bell rang and they were off.

Before they had proceeded far, Boy noticed a sudden rush to the great window at one side of the boat, and joining the crowd he heard some one say, “There goes the Prince of Whales.”

Looking eagerly out of the window, he saw a whale very nicely dressed in a perfectly-fitting frock-coat and wearing a beautifully glossy new top hat; he had a gold-headed umbrella tucked under one fin, and was followed by a crowd of small fishes who were evidently trying to attract his attention, but of whom he was not taking the slightest notice. He raised his hat, though, and bowed very affably as the crowd on the boat cheered him.

“His Marine Highness is looking very well, isn’t he?” inquired a gentlemanly-looking Whiting of Boy, as the Prince of Whales disappeared from view.

“Very well indeed,” replied Boy; “he seems to be very popular,” he added.

“Oh yes, he is,” replied the Whiting. “He is a capital fellow, and does an immense amount of good. He is on his way now to open the New Home for Distressed Barnacles, I believe.”

An American King Crab, sitting near, remarked in a loud voice that he “didn’t believe in Princes.”

“I guess we can do without them 011 our side of the herring pond,” he said contemptuously, and then went over to speak to a small Oyster who was sitting the other side of the boat. Boy was rather interested in the King Crab, never having seen one of these curious-looking creatures before, so he walked over too, just in time to hear him say to the Oyster, —

“Native of these parts, 1 presume, stranger?”

The Oyster bowed.

“Wal, no offence to you, but I guess we’ve got Oysters over our side of the Atlantic that could knock you into fits. Why, we’ve got’em so big over there that it takes two men and a boy to swallow one of them.”

“I’ve heard my Uncle say,” remarked Boy pleasantly, that most things in America are on a very large scale; I suppose he must have been thinking of those oysters.”

“Yes, Siree, I guess your Uncle’s right. I reckon that our country is going to lick creation before long,” said the American King Crab, walking away and looking very pleased.

“There, now you’ve made him happy,” said the Oyster, laughing.

“Why, what have I done?” asked Boy innocently.

“Why, Americans are always very glad to hear their country praised, you know,” said the Oyster; “let’s come on deck and hear the singing.”

Boy very readily followed him on to the deck where they found a crowd gathered around a couple of Soles with black faces, dressed in nigger costumes, who were singing to the accompaniment of a guitar the following song: —

THE GREAT SEA SERPENT

“I will sing a funny song