COCO BOLO

Up the garden ran the King

COCO BOLO

King of the Floating Islands

SIDFORD F. HAMP

BOSTON

RICHARD G. BADGER

THE GORHAM PRESS
1911

Copyright, 1910, by Richard G. Badger

All Rights Reserved

The Gorham Press, Boston, U. S. A.

CONTENTS

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS

COCO BOLO
KING OF THE FLOATING ISLANDS

Coco Bolo

CHAPTER I
THE SHADOW-CHASERS

"Edward can't come," said Margaret: "he'd get tired too soon and want to go home again."

"No, Edward can't come," Frances agreed. "His legs are too short. We must wait till he goes upstairs for his nap, and then we'll start."

There were three children in the family: Margaret, who was nearly eight; Frances, who was six and a quarter; and Edward, who, being only half way between three and four, was still—as Frances had sagely remarked—too short in the legs for such an enterprise as the two little girls had in mind.

They had been spending the winter on the coast of Southern California, when, one morning in April, Margaret and Frances went out into the road in front of the house, and turning their backs to the sun, amused themselves by running after their shadows, trying to step on their own heads—a feat they had often attempted before, but never yet with any success.

While they were thus occupied, their father, coming out of the house, stood on the edge of the sidewalk watching them, and when the two children, tousled and breathless, presently came back to him, he put an arm round the shoulders of each, saying:

"What are you doing, Chicks? Chasing shadows?"

"Yes, Daddy." It was Margaret who replied. "We were trying to get to the other end—"

"So's we could tread on our own heads," said Frances, who never liked to be left out of the conversation.

"Ah! A difficult thing to do. Nobody ever succeeded yet that I know of except little Tom Titmouse, and very much surprised he was when he got there."

"Why?" asked both children, with eager anticipation, scenting a story.

"Be-cause," replied their father, spreading out the word in order to give himself time to think. "Because—But it's too long a story to tell you now, children, for I must leave in a minute. So the story must wait till this evening—unless you should manage to catch your shadows before I get home again, and then you can tell me whether it is all true or not."

"Whether what is all true, Daddy?" asked Margaret.

"Why, all those things that Tommy Titmouse saw: King Coco Bolo and the Archbishop and Lobsterneck, the Great American Snap-dragon, and—but I must go, children. I must be off. Good-bye! There's my car coming now."

So saying, Daddy ran to the street corner, and there, with a wave of his hand, he vanished, leaving the two little girls standing before the front gate, thinking.

"We'll try this morning," said Margaret with decision. "We'll start just as soon as Edward goes upstairs for his nap."

Accordingly, the moment Edward's short legs had conveyed him unwillingly to bed, the two little girls went out at the back gate to where a large open stretch of land sloped gently down to the ocean, about half a mile away. A few trees were scattered here and there upon the slope, and between them, far out upon the water, might be seen some bare, rocky islands, with the sight of which the children were familiar—islands where nobody lived and to which nobody ever went.

Margaret was a rather tall little girl, with brown eyes and brown hair and red cheeks, while Frances, who was not quite so tall, had light hair and hazel eyes and pink cheeks, as well as a band of freckles all across her nose. Both of them were wearing that morning their pink dresses and flowered hair-ribbons—a very fortunate circumstance, as it turned out. Margaret also wore a wide-brimmed straw hat, while her sister carried instead a pink-and-white parasol—one of her last birthday presents. She took with her as well another of her birthday presents: a yellow plush puppy with black spots, Periwinkle by name, whose legs were like sausages, whose eyes were glittering black beads, and whose red worsted mouth was set in a perpetual smile.

Thus equipped, the children set forth, and turning their backs to the sun and their faces to the ocean, they walked after their shadows, steadily and briskly, though without haste.

"For," said Frances, "the way to do is not to hurry. That is what Daddy said that day we walked to the old wreck. He said, 'Take it easy and keep going,' and we did and we got there."

"Yes," responded her sister. "Daddy always knows; so we won't hurry; and then we shan't get so hot either."

Shadow chasing

It was hot enough, though, hurry or no hurry, for the morning was unusually sultry. The sun beat down upon them, the ground was steaming and the air was all in a quiver; and what was worse, though they kept on walking and walking, they seemed to get no nearer to the other end of their shadows. It was rather discouraging.

They were persevering little girls, however, and knowing how pleased Daddy would be to learn whether it really was true about Coco Bolo and the Archbishop and Lobsterneck, the Great American Snap-Dragon, they kept on and on, growing more tired and more hot and more discouraged at every step—especially Frances, who had the puppy to carry—when, without their having noticed what had become of them, their shadows suddenly disappeared!

On the brink of a steep little cliff about six feet high, at the foot of which the waters of a small inlet gently lapped the rocks, there stood a grove of ten or twelve trees—short, stubby trees, all leaning landward, as trees growing on the edge of the sea always do. The shadows led the children straight to this grove of trees, and there, lo and behold! they vanished. Where had they got to?

Margaret and Frances looked all about. They looked upon the ground and they looked up into the trees, but look where they might no shadows could they see. Where had they got to?

"I wonder," said Frances, "if this isn't the place where Tommy—Tommy—what was his other name?"

"Little Tom Titmouse," replied her sister. "Perhaps it is. So let us sit down and wait. Perhaps, if we sit still and keep quiet, we may see King Coco Bolo and the Archbishop and—Are there such things as tame dragons, Frances?" she asked, suddenly remembering with some misgivings that little Tom Titmouse, besides making the desirable acquaintance of King Coco Bolo and the Archbishop, had also encountered a dragon—which was quite another thing.

"There must be," replied Frances, reflectively. "Daddy told us to try to get to that place, and if the dragon hadn't been a tame dragon he wouldn't—"

"No, of course he wouldn't," interrupted Margaret, reassured. "So we'll sit down and wait, and perhaps—Oh! Look!" pointing out over the shimmering sea. "There are some new islands! One, two, three of them, besides the old ones. Look! Oh! One of them has split in two! Now there are four! Now there are five! What funny islands!"

Sitting in the cool shade of the trees, the children watched the new islands come and go, grow large and larger, break in two, vanish and come again. It was very fascinating and also very mysterious. How did they get there? Where had they come from? And why, Oh, why did they keep shifting about like that? Were they floating islands? It seemed likely, for Daddy had once told them something about floating islands with flower gardens on them, though where they were situated Margaret could not remember.

"I shouldn't be a bit s'prised"—she began, when, turning to her sister, she noticed that an ant was running over the back of Frances' hand. Knowing very well that Frances objected to the tickling of ants and spiders and such things, Margaret glanced quickly at her face, and then smiled a superior smile.

"She's so young," said she, by way of explaining it. "She's only six and a quarter. It isn't as if she was nearly eight. I won't disturb her. I'll let her sleep just as long as she likes."

Observing that the yellow plush puppy was lying on his back with his feet in the air, she went on:

"I may just as well lie down too while I'm waiting. I'll put Periwinkle on this flat stone: he'll make a very good pillow. Ah! How nice it is here under the trees. I wish the branches would keep still, though, so that the sunlight wouldn't keep flicking into my eyes. I'll put my hat over my face, and then—Yes, that's better. Now, I'll just shut my eyes and wait till Frances—"

"Ting-a-ling-a-ling!"

Margaret had not had her eyes shut one minute—no, not half a minute, she was sure—when she heard the sound of a little bell somewhere close by. She sat bolt upright and listened, while Periwinkle, who had been uncomplainingly serving her as a pillow, the valiant Periwinkle sprang up on his sausage legs and began to growl fiercely—as fiercely, that is to say, as was to be expected of a yellow plush puppy with a fixed red worsted smile.

"Ting-a-ling-a-ling!" went the bell again. The sound seemed to come up from the edge of the water at the foot of the cliff. Margaret jumped up, and followed by Periwinkle she stepped softly to the edge of the rocks and peeped over.

CHAPTER II
ADMIRAL BOXWOOD

Standing on a flat shelf of rock which rose about six inches above the level of the water was a little man, who, from the cut of his clothes, was evidently a naval man. He looked so smart that Margaret made sure he must be an admiral at least, though instead of the blue cloth suit of an ordinary, every day admiral, this little man wore a bright green cocked hat with a long red tassel on the top of it; a gold-laced swallow-tailed coat of cherry-colored silk; green-and-white striped knee breeches; white silk stockings; and white shoes with cherry-colored rosettes. Altogether he was very bright and pretty to look at.

But the most remarkable thing about him was his size.

"He's just about as tall as Mother's new, long-handled parasol," thought Margaret. "And yet he isn't a boy, for he has gray hair and gray whiskers. What red cheeks he has, too: they're just as red as Edward's new doll's were before he washed them in the bath-tub with the nail brush. I wonder why he keeps on ringing that bell. He must be waiting for somebody."

If he was waiting for somebody, he was not worrying himself much about it, for he was standing in a careless attitude with his feet crossed, and instead of looking out for the people to come, his eyes were fixed on a little silver bell which, holding it out at arm's length between his finger and thumb, he kept tinkling and tinkling as though he had nothing else in the world to do; all the time smiling away to himself in the most cheerful and contented manner.

Margaret took a step forward, when her shadow—that very same shadow she had been vainly pursuing all morning—her shadow fell on the rock at the little man's feet. He looked up, and instantly his whole manner changed. He stopped ringing his bell, and clapping his heels together he made a bow so low that the red tassel on his hat swept the ground.

"If your Royal Highness is ready—" he began, when Margaret interrupted him.

"My—my what, did you say?" she asked. "I didn't quite understand. My sister, do you mean? I'll call her."

Turning to do so, she found that Frances, whom she had left asleep under the trees, was standing close beside her holding her hand—and the curious thing about it was that she was not in the least surprised.

"Isn't he pretty!" whispered Frances. "What red cheeks he has! What was he saying to you? Let's go down and talk to him. Shall we?"

The two little girls, after hunting about for a bit, found an easy place to climb down, when they advanced toward the little man, followed by Periwinkle, who, being not quite easy in his mind, kept close at their heels, growling to himself all the time in an undertone.

As they approached him, the Admiral greeted them with another low bow, lower even than the first one. In fact, he bowed so very low that his joints creaked and then stuck. Do what he would he could not straighten up again.

"Oh, dear!" cried Margaret. "He's caught somehow. Come and help me, Frances."

So saying, she picked up the little Admiral and held him close against her with both arms around his chest. In this position his feet stuck straight out in front of him, when Frances, taking hold of his ankles, pressed them down until he came straight again with a snap.

"Your Royal Highnesses are most condescending," said the polite little Admiral gratefully, bowing once more, though this time with greater caution. "The fact is," he went on to explain, "I had the misfortune to fall into the sea yesterday and my joints became swollen in consequence."

"What!" cried Frances. "Does it make your joints swell if you—?"

But here the Admiral interrupted her.

"I don't wonder you are surprised," said he, with a gratified smile. "I know it must seem strange to you to be told that even we, Hardwoods—"

"You are a Hardwood, then, are you?" asked Margaret in a polite tone of inquiry. For, while she did not understand what the little Admiral meant by calling himself a Hardwood, she did not wish to appear too inquisitive.

"I have that honor," replied the Admiral. "In fact, all the officers of the army and navy are Hardwoods, as well as all the members of the Court circle, with the single exception of the Court Crier. He belongs to the Weeping Willow family. But as I was going to say," he went on, "even a Hardwood will swell if he stays in the water nine hours, as I did."

Picked up the little Admiral

"Nine hours!" cried Frances. "Why, we only stay in twenty minutes twice a week, when we have our swimming lesson. What did you stay in so long for?"

"It was not intentional, I beg to assure you," replied the Admiral. "Far from it. I fell into the sea, and as the tide was going out at the time I had to go with it; and when it did turn and washed me back again, I couldn't find the island."

"The island! What island?" asked Frances.

The little man cocked up his eyebrows in surprise at the question.

"What island?" he repeated. "Why, the Floating Island, of course," pointing over his shoulder with his thumb.

"Oh! So you come from the Floating Islands, do you!" exclaimed Margaret.

"Yes. You will have noticed, I dare say, how the islands keep coming and going and breaking in pieces and changing their shapes. Well, that is what they did yesterday, and every time I thought I was going to land I found that the island had moved away and I had to begin all over again."

"That was horrid," remarked Frances. "Weren't you afraid of being drowned?"

At this question the little Admiral, in spite of his politeness, could not help laughing.

"Drowned!" he cried. "We, Hardwoods, don't get drowned. Why, the Lord Chancellor was washed off the island once and floated about for three months. We all thought he was gone for good, but he turned up again one day none the worse except that his joints wouldn't work for a couple of weeks and nearly all his paint had washed off."

"His paint!" cried Margaret, glancing at the little man's red cheeks. "What is he made of, then?"

"He is one of the Quartered-Oaks—written with a hyphen—a very good family, very hard and very serviceable; though—Ahem!—not quite of such quality as the Boxwoods."

He said this with such a self-conscious air that Margaret ventured a guess.

"You are a—"

The little man laid his right hand on his heart, stuck out his left elbow and bent his body at the hips. With his eyes half closed and with a beaming smile, he said:

"Your Royal Highness has guessed right. I am of the Boxwoods."

"And the Boxwoods are harder than the Quartered Oaks, are they?" asked Margaret.

By way of reply, the little Admiral picked up a pebble and tapped himself on the cheek with it. It sounded like clapping the backs of two hair-brushes together.

"Why!" exclaimed Frances. "You are as hard as—as hard as a door-knob!"

The little man was evidently much pleased with the compliment. Becoming confidential, he stepped forward and said in a low tone:

"Between ourselves, Ladies, the Boxwood family is the hardest on the island. Nobody disputes our position; we come next to the King, himself."

"The King!" cried both children, inquiringly.

"His Majesty, King Coco Bolo," replied the little Admiral, drawing himself up very straight and lifting his cocked hat as high as his short arm would permit.

"But, bless my paint and spangles!" he cried. "What am I thinking of? Here have I been chattering away, forgetting all the time what I came for."

So saying, he removed his cocked hat again and took out of the lining a large, square letter, which he handed to Margaret; and having done so, he retired a few steps, where he stood with his arms a-kimbo and his head on one side, smiling away at nothing. "Just as if he had been taking lessons in cheerfulness and was practising while he waited," thought Frances.

The two children, with their heads close together, each holding a corner of the envelope, spelt out the address. It read:

"To Margaret and Frances. Courtesy of Admiral Boxwood."

"Then he is an Admiral," whispered Margaret, peeping over the top of the envelope at the smiling little gentleman. "That's why he wears a cocked hat and is so polite."

"What does it mean by saying, 'Courtesy of Admiral Boxwood'?" asked Frances. "Do you think they made a mistake and meant to say 'Courtesy to Admiral Boxwood'?"

"Perhaps they did," replied Margaret. "Anyhow, it's better to be too polite than not polite enough, so let's courtesy to him."

Standing up side by side and holding out their frocks with both hands, the two little girls made their very best "cheeses" to the Admiral; upon which the Admiral took off his cocked hat with a flourish and bowed, until the squeaking of his joints warned him to straighten up again.

"What is the letter about?" asked Margaret, turning it over and over. "Here's a big 'C. B. R.' on the back, done in red letters with a gold crown over them. What does C. B. R. mean?"

"Coco Bolo Rex," replied the Admiral, adding: "Rex, you know, means King."

"Oh, I see. Thank you. No, I didn't know. But what is the King writing to us for?"

"Perhaps your Royal Highness had better read the letter and see," replied the Admiral—which really did seem like a very sensible suggestion.

"I'm not very good at reading writing yet," said Margaret, as she drew the letter from the envelope, "but—Oh! It's printed in capital letters. That's easier. It looks like a bill of fare. I'll see if I can read it.

'COCO BOLO
KING OF THE FLOATING ISLANDS
PRESENTS HIS COMPLIMENTS
TO
MARGARET AND FRANCES
AND
REQUESTS THE PLEASURE OF THEIR
COMPANY
AT A GARDEN PARTY
TO MEET
HIS GRACE, THE ARCHBISHOP
OF
TIMBUCTOO-AND-A-HALF'"

"Oh, what fun!" cried Frances, clapping her hands and dancing about. "A garden party! How kind of the King to ask us! Let's go, Margaret."

"Yes, it's very kind of the King; and I should like to go, of course," replied her sister; "but how are we to get there?"

"Nothing easier," remarked the Admiral. "His Majesty is not one to do things by halves. He has sent the royal yacht for your accommodation."

He waved his hand toward the water, where the two little girls noticed for the first time that a boat was gently bobbing up and down upon the swell.

CHAPTER III
THE ROYAL YACHT

It was a very pretty boat, evidently made of glass, for the children could see right through it; and though it had neither mast nor oars, it had, at any rate, a wheel, behind which was standing a little man dressed in a sailor's suit of the same bright colors as the Admiral's.

"The Crew," remarked that gentleman, nodding toward the new sailor-man, who, as soon as he saw that the little girls were looking at him, smiled in the most cordial manner and spun the wheel round so fast that the spokes hummed in the air.

"If you are quite ready," said the Admiral, raising his hat, "we'll get aboard;" and stepping down to the edge of the water he put his hands to his mouth and roared out at the very top of his voice: "Boat, ahoy!" Though, really, it seemed hardly necessary to shout so loud, as the boat was not more than four feet from the shore.

"Perhaps the Crew is deaf," suggested Frances, sagely.

Perhaps he was, but, if so, he was not so deaf but that he could hear what was shouted to him at four feet distance, for he at once touched his cap, spun the wheel round the other way, and leaving it spinning walked to the bow of the boat, where, leaning out over the water, he pulled up a little anchor.

"Weigh the anchor!" shouted the Admiral.

"Do you think it's worth while?" suggested the Crew, politely touching his cap. "We've weighed it once this morning already—four pounds, six ounces."

"That's true. Well, never mind, then. Pitch it ashore."

Thereupon, the Crew, holding the coil of rope in his left hand, swung the anchor round and round his head and threw it to the Admiral.

Instead of catching it in his hands, or getting out of its way altogether, as most people would have done, and as the children of course thought he would do, the Admiral whipped off his cocked hat and bending forward allowed the anchor to hit him crack on the top of his head.

"Oh!" cried both little girls, running forward. "Did it hurt you very badly?"

"Not at all, thank you," replied the Admiral with a genial smile, as he stooped to pick up the anchor. "A little thing like that doesn't hurt a Boxwood."

Allowed the anchor to hit him

So saying, he began to pull upon the rope, drawing the boat close up to the shore, when he remarked:

"Now, your Royal Highnesses, if you'll step aboard we'll start at once."

"Why do you keep on calling us 'Royal Highnesses'?" asked Margaret; for neither she nor Frances had ever heard the title before and they did not know what it meant.

"Oh, excuse me!" cried the Admiral, apologetically. "I ought to have guessed it. Your Royal Highnesses prefer to travel incog?"

"In what?" asked Margaret. "I thought we were to travel in the boat."

"Ha, ha!" laughed the Admiral, clapping his hands. "Very good! Very good! Wasn't that good, Bo'sun?"

"A. 1 at Lloyd's," replied the Crew. "We must tell that to the King."

The children had not the least idea what the Admiral and the Crew were laughing about, nor what the Crew meant by saying "A. 1 at Lloyd's," but it was evident that Margaret had made a capital joke by accident, and so, trying to look as though they understood quite well, they smiled pleasantly at the two naval men and stepped upon the shelf of rock beside which the boat was lying.

Now that it was close up, the children were better able to see what the royal yacht was like. Apparently its frame work was made of the skeleton of a very big fish turned upside down, the fish's backbone forming the keel, and its ribs the ribs of the boat. The whole had been coated over with glass, so that the little girls, standing above it and looking down into the boat, could see right through the bottom of it. They could see the seaweeds on the rocks below and the little fishes flipping about.

The bottom of the boat, indeed, being transparent and therefore invisible, stepping into it looked so very much like stepping into the sea that for a moment Margaret and Frances felt some little doubt about venturing.

But seeing that the Crew in the stern was leaning out, holding to the rock with both hands, while the Admiral, having first laid aside his cocked hat, was most obligingly lying flat on his gold-laced waistcoat, holding the boat at its other end to steady it, they hesitated no longer, but first removing their sandals for fear their heels might crack the glass, they stepped in, taking their places side by side on the middle seat.

"What nice soft cushions!" exclaimed Margaret. "And see! One of them is marked in the corner with an 'F' and the other with an 'M'."

"'F' for Frances and 'M' for Margaret," remarked her sister, seating herself on her own cushion and placing her sandals in her lap. "Come on, Periwinkle!" she cried, chirruping encouragingly to the yellow plush puppy. "Come on, then: don't be afraid!"

Periwinkle, however was not to be persuaded. Standing on the edge of the rock, looking down into the boat, he, too, could see the fishes passing beneath it, and not knowing that the boat had a glass bottom, he declined to jump into the water—as he supposed.

Frances, therefore, reached out, and taking her pet by the back of his neck, she pulled him in and set him down at her feet. For a moment the puppy struggled to jump out again, when a big fish, passing just under his nose, diverted his attention. Forgetting his fears, Periwinkle snapped at the fish, and, of course, banged his nose on the glass bottom of the boat, making himself sneeze with great gusto; after which, thinking that it was the fish that had banged him on the nose, he contented himself with barking at them when they glided under the boat. He was a very sensible puppy, considering that he was only stuffed with excelsior.

As soon as he saw that they were all comfortably settled, the Admiral jumped to his feet, clapped his cocked hat on his head, gathered up the rope, and tucking the anchor under his arm, he stepped into the bows.

"Eight bells!" he roared.

At this command, the Crew hastily felt in all his pockets and brought out a number of little bells, which he rang one after the other.

"That's only seven!" cried the Admiral. "Where's the other?"

"You have it yourself," replied the Crew.

"Oh, yes. So I have. Excuse me," said the Admiral, politely; and thereupon he took the eighth bell out of his pocket and rang that one, too.

"Why do you ring eight bells?" asked Margaret.

"I thought you'd like it," was the Admiral's unexpected reply.

"Oh! Yes. Thank you very much. I do," said Margaret.

"It's very pretty," added Frances. "Won't you ring them again?"

"I'm afraid we can't," replied the Admiral, regretfully. "It's against the rules of the navy. We only ring eight bells once a day at mid-day, or, on occasions like this, once extra for a treat, so—Ah! Happy thought! How's the sun?" he shouted.

"It's shining away like one o'clock," replied the Crew, touching his cap.

"Just like one o'clock?" inquired the Admiral in an insinuating tone.

"Well," replied the Crew, evidently anxious to accommodate, "it's a good deal like twelve o'clock, too."

"Good!" cried the Admiral, clapping his hands. "A poor excuse is better than a poke in the eye with a sharp stick. We'll ring 'em again. Eight bells!" he roared, so loudly that it made his eyes water.

So the Admiral and the Crew rang eight bells all over again, after which the Admiral threw his bell to the Crew, who very cleverly caught it and stuffed it into his pocket, and having gathered up the other seven bells and put them into his pockets, too, he laid his hands on the spokes of the wheel and waited for further orders.

"How's her head?" cried the Admiral.

"North, south, east, west," replied the Crew, with all the smartness of a man-o'-war's man.

"Good!" shouted the Admiral. "Cast off!"

Not knowing what "Cast off" might mean, the two little girls turned their heads to see what the Crew was going to do. As far as they could perceive, however, "Cast off" did not mean anything at all, for the Crew never moved, but stood there smiling away over the top of the wheel as though he were waiting to be photographed.

"Why did you say, 'Cast off'?" inquired Margaret of the Admiral. "What does it mean?"

"It means, untie the ship," replied the Admiral.

"But the ship is untied," Margaret objected.

"I know. It's just a matter of form. Now, if you are quite ready, we'll start at once."

"Quite ready, thank you," replied both little girls, eagerly; for there seemed to be so many forms and ceremonies that they began to fear they might be late for the garden party.

"Starboard!" shouted the Admiral.

Whereupon the Crew gave the wheel a spang with his right hand which sent it spinning at a great rate, at the same time glancing out of the corners of his eyes at the two passengers to see what they thought of his cleverness.

"Good!" cried Margaret and Frances, clapping their hands; at which the Crew, beaming with pleasure, touched his cap and bowed. In doing so, however, he forgot the wheel, and one of the spokes hit him such a crack on the right side of his nose that the wheel stopped spinning.

"Oh!" cried both children. "That must have hurt!"

"Not at all, thank your Ladyships," replied the Crew, smiling away just as cheerfully as ever.

"What a brave little sailor-man you are," said Frances, admiringly. "Most people would have wanted to cry after getting such a knock."

"Excuse me, Ladies," the Admiral here interposed, very politely. "Pray excuse me, but it is against the rules of the navy to speak to the man at the wheel."

"Oh, is it?" replied Margaret and Frances. "We're sorry. We didn't know that."

"Don't mention it," said the Admiral, pleasantly. "It's of no consequence." And turning to the Crew, he asked: "It didn't break your nose, did it? Because you had better mend it at once if it did. The glue is in the medicine chest."

"It's all right, sir, thank you," replied the Crew, tapping his nose with his knuckles. "Only dented. No harm done."

"Very well; then we'll proceed. Starboard!" he shouted once more.

"You said 'Starboard' last time," remonstrated the Crew, touching his cap.

"Oh, yes. So I did. Thank you. Let me see: what comes next? Oh, yes. Port!"

The Crew, who was only waiting for the word, spun the wheel the other way; such a spin that the spokes hummed like the piping of a mosquito.

"Fine spin!" cried Margaret, enthusiastically, clapping her hands again.

"Yes. How fast it goes!" said Frances. "You can't even see the spokes."

Hearing this remark, the Crew, delighted with the compliment, smiled immensely, and stooping down with his hands on his knees he peeped through the wheel at them.

"Peek-a-boo!" cried Frances, quite forgetting the rules of the navy.

For though the Crew was presumably a grown up sailor-man, he was so small and so neat and so bright-colored and so merry-looking that it was quite impossible to take him seriously.

At this moment the boat started.

CHAPTER IV
THE KING'S HOUNDS

The boat started so suddenly that the Crew, stooping to peep through the wheel, was taken by surprise and lost his balance. Down he sat upon the deck, his heels went up into the air, and he would certainly have gone over backwards into the water had it not been for Frances, who, very quickly and very cleverly hooked the handle of her parasol in one leg of his trousers and tilted him back to a sitting position.

"Thank you, Miss," said the Crew, touching his cap.

"Very much obliged," remarked the Admiral. "It might have spoilt his complexion to have fallen into the water."

"You are very welcome," said Frances, cordially. "But why did the boat start so suddenly? What made it start?"

"I did," replied the Admiral.

"You did? How?"

"I'll show you," said the Admiral, evidently much pleased by the interest the little girls took in the working of the yacht. "Look!"

He was seated in the front end of the boat in one of those whirligig office chairs which grow taller and taller if you wind them one way and shorter and shorter if you wind them the other. When he said, "Look," he gave a kick off with his left foot, round spun the chair and stopped. Immediately the boat began to slow down.

"See?" asked the Admiral.

"Yes, I see," replied Margaret, who happened to be the one to catch his eye. "I see, but I don't understand. The boat has no sail and it has no oars and it has no engine: what is the—the—?"

"What makes it go?" asked Frances.

"What is the motive power, you were going to say, weren't you?" asked the Admiral. "Ha, ha!" he cried, rubbing his hands. "You'd never guess. Never. Look here!" jumping out of his chair and patting the cushion—a very fat air-cushion blown up extremely tight. "This contains the motive power. All you have to do is to sit on the cushion, give a twist to the chair, and away you go."

"I see," said Margaret again. "Very simple. But what is the motive power? Gasoline?"

His heels went up in the air

"Oh, dear, no!" cried the Admiral, holding up his hands as though horrified at the suggestion. "Nothing so barbarous as gasoline. Unpleasant smells and unnecessary noises are not allowed on the floating Islands. The cushion is filled with snap-dragon's breath."

"Snap-dragon's breath!" cried both little girls, sitting up very straight and opening their eyes very widely.

"Yes; the King's pet snap-dragon. He blows up the cushion for us every morning."

"So there is a dragon on the island, then, is there?"

"Lobsterneck, the Great American Snap-Dragon," replied the Admiral, proudly, making himself as tall as he possibly could and puffing out his cheeks so tightly that his whiskers stood on end.

So Daddy was right, and there was a dragon after all! Margaret and Frances could not help feeling just a little bit uneasy at the thought, for though they felt sure the dragon would be a tame one, still, a dragon was a dragon—there was no getting over that fact.

But the Admiral, seeing them look so serious, hastened to relieve their minds.

"Your Royal Hi—Your Ladyships, I mean," he corrected himself, "need not be in the least alarmed: the King's dragon is not at all like the common, low-class dragons you are accustomed to."

"But we aren't—" Margaret began, when the Admiral stopped her with a polite wave of his hand.

"I know," said he. "I quite understand. You were going to say you are not accustomed to associate with dragons at all. Very natural. The average dragon, I am aware, is a rude and boisterous creature. But Lobsterneck! Well, Lobsterneck is not an average dragon. In the first place he is a snap-dragon; and in the second place he is the most amiable and considerate snap-dragon you ever met. He lives by himself in a round tower on the top of Dragon hill, and he never thinks of taking a walk without first putting boxing gloves on all six of his claws for fear he should accidentally step on somebody and scratch their paint off. And then he is such friends with the children! As soon as he appears they all run and scramble upon his back. You'll see a dozen of them perched up there at once sometimes, all in a row, like swallows on a telegraph wire, and a dozen more running behind, begging for a ride."

"What a nice dragon!" exclaimed Margaret. "And is he polite to strangers?"

"Always," replied the Admiral.

"And—and to puppies?" asked Frances, leaning forward to stroke Periwinkle's head.

"Always," replied the Admiral once more.

"Well, then," said Frances, "let us start at once. We should be so sorry if we were late; and we are not at all afraid of the dragon any more, are we, Margaret?"

"Not the least," replied her sister. "So, let's start again at once."

"Very good," said the Admiral; and with that he jumped into his chair again and gave a push off with his right foot. Round spun the chair with the Admiral in it, and away went the boat, skipping over the tops of the waves, as a boy can make a flat stone skip across a pond—and a girl can't.

"How beautifully it goes!" cried Margaret. "It's almost like flying. What is the boat's name? Has it any name?"

"Certainly," replied the Admiral. "The name is painted on the bows. You can see it yourself through the glass."

"Oh, yes! So I can! I wonder if I can read it. 'M, A,—' Why! The letters are all turned the wrong way! What is that for?"

"That is because they are painted on the other side of the glass. You are looking at the backs of the letters. Begin at the other end, and then you will see."

"'T, H, E,' The," began Margaret. "'P, L, E, A,—' It's too hard for me. What does it spell?"

"'The Pleasant Dream'," replied the Admiral. "Good name, isn't it?"

"Very good," Margaret agreed. "Because it is almost like a boat in a dream, the way it skips from one wave to the next."

In fact, the boat went so fast and made such a breeze that Margaret could not keep her hat on. She therefore placed it in her lap and tied her handkerchief over her head instead. As she cocked her chin sideways to tie the knot, she happened to catch sight of the Crew out of the corner of her eye. To her surprise he was sitting cross-legged on the deck behind the wheel, a little looking-glass in his hand and the medicine chest before him, busily repairing the dent in his nose with some putty.

"Why don't you—?" she began; but remembering that it was against the rules of the navy to speak to the man at the wheel, she turned to the Admiral instead, and said:

"Why doesn't he attend to the steering?"

"He's busy just now," replied the Admiral, "but he will directly. And, anyhow," he added, "it doesn't make much difference: there isn't any rudder."

"No rudder!" cried Margaret in astonishment; for she had always understood that the rudder was the most important part of a ship.

"No. But that is not of the least consequence: I know the way."

The children did not know very much about boats, but it certainly did seem a queer way of managing things. Nevertheless, though the Admiral, riding backwards, never turned his head to see which way they were going, and though the Crew, having puttied up the dent in his nose, was now so busy with a paint-brush, painting the patch to match the rest of his complexion, that he never looked up, The Pleasant Dream continued on its course as straight as an arrow, skimming the waves like a seagull. So the children, concluding it was all right, settled themselves comfortably on their cushions, prepared to enjoy their outing.

If the boat seemed to fly, so did the time. Neither of the children owned a watch, so they could not tell how long they had been going, but it seemed to them not more than ten minutes ere the Floating Island began to loom up big before them. It was a peculiar-looking island—a very peculiar-looking island. At first sight it looked like an enormous, square, frosted sponge-cake floating on the water, its sides as high as a house and as straight up-and-down as a wall. Then, as they drew nearer, it appeared to the children to be like an immense block of sea-foam with as many colors in it as a soap-bubble. It was not till they had come pretty close to it that they made out at last what it really was:—a thick and solid bank of cloud, all pink and white and shining.

They had come within little more than a quarter of a mile of it, when the cloud-wall suddenly split in two from top to bottom—only for one second, for the narrow crack closed up again directly. But in that brief time the children caught a glimpse of what appeared to be a most beautiful floating flower-garden.

"Just as if a bit of a rainbow had tumbled into the sea," was Frances' comment.

But they caught sight of something else as well; something far more curious than any flower-garden.

In the middle of the island was a rather high hill; on top of the hill was a fat round tower; and on top of the tower, seated on a three-legged stool, combing his whiskers with his claws, sat some huge, strange creature, unlike anything they had ever seen before.

"What's that?" whispered Frances; for the Admiral was dozing and she did not want to disturb him.

Before Margaret could reply, the creature, whatever it was, caught sight of them, when, just as the crack in the cloud-wall closed up again, it rose up on its hind feet, and putting its fore-paws to its mouth it bellowed like a cow.

"The whistling buoy!" cried Margaret. "I've heard it before."

"Excuse me, Miss," whispered a voice behind them; and looking back, they saw that the Crew was peeping at them over the top of the wheel. "Excuse me, Ladies," said he, "but you are mistaken. That was the King's dragon."

"The King's dragon!"

"Yes, Miss: the King's pet snap-dragon. He sits up there on his tower to keep watch, and when he sees anyone coming he bellows like that to give notice."

"Are you sure?" asked Margaret.

"Oh, yes, Miss. Quite sure."

"Well," said Margaret, "I'm very glad to know that. I've often heard the sound from the shore, and somebody told me it was the whistling buoy. Now I shall know next time. There he goes again!"

At this second bellow the Admiral woke up with a start. He cast a glance over his shoulder, and seeing how near they had come, he spun his chair round till it would go no further, when the boat immediately began to slacken speed.

It was still going pretty fast, however, and the cloud-wall looked so solid that Margaret and Frances could not help feeling just a little bit anxious lest the glass boat should be cracked when it ran against it; which it was evidently going to do, for it kept straight on its course.

But as the Admiral and the Crew were perfectly calm about it, they felt reassured, and presently the frail boat ran into the wall without a shock or a tremor. It just made a hole which closed up behind it—and there they were, unable to see out in any direction.

At the same moment there arose all round them, in front and behind and on both sides, a perfect clamor of barking, as though a hundred dogs were all barking at once and all trying to see which could bark the loudest and the fastest.

"Why! Where are they all?" cried Margaret, looking vainly about in every direction. "It sounds as though they were in the water."

"They are," replied the Admiral, smiling at her wonder. "They always bark like this when they hear the dragon bellow."

"But I don't understand," said Margaret. "Dogs don't live in the sea."

"These dogs do."

"Why! What kind of dogs are they?"

"They are sea-dogs," replied the Admiral. "The King's own pack of hounds. The Royal Dog-fish."

"Oh!" cried Frances, laughing. "I see. So they are fish after all, and not dogs."

"But," remarked Margaret, "if they are fish, how can they bark? I never heard of fishes barking; not even dog-fishes."

"They don't as a rule," replied the Admiral; "but these have been trained for the purpose. Just as soon as ever they cut their first teeth their diet is most carefully regulated with the special object of cultivating their voices."

"What are they fed on, then?" asked Margaret. "Dog biscuit?"

"No. Bark," replied the Admiral. "The bark of the dog-wood."

"Oh! Of course!" cried both the children. "We might have guessed that."

At this moment the boat ran through the cloud-wall and now the children could see what sort of a place the Floating Island really was.

CHAPTER V
THE COURT CRIER

They found themselves in a beautiful little bay of a bright green color, fringed all round with neat little, curly, white waves, all exactly four inches high and ten feet apart. "Like rows of tucks round the bottom of a dress," thought Frances.

But the island itself was what most attracted their attention. It was like a Japanese garden, with little green hills and little red footpaths bordered with white shells; with little lakes and little streams and little bridges; it was dotted all about with little houses painted all sorts of bright colors; and there were flowers—flowers everywhere. It was the prettiest place they had ever seen.

From all directions were little people running down to the pier to meet them; the excited dragon was jumping about on top of his tower, bellowing like a whole herd of milk cows at once; while all the dog-fish, with their noses sticking out of the water, came swarming from every direction, barking away—the great alarm of Periwinkle—as loudly as they could, and making such a racket that Margaret and Frances were obliged to put their fingers into their ears for fear of being deafened.

Seeing this, the Admiral jumped out of his chair, waved his arms, and shouted out, "King's guests! King's guests!" Whereupon, all those polite and well-trained dog-fish leaped out of the water, and standing on their heads, wagged their tails in welcome, sending into the air showers of spray which the bright sun turned into dozens and dozens of little rainbows. It was the prettiest thing you ever saw. The little girls were delighted.

By this time the speed of the boat had very much slackened, it was just gliding along with hardly a ripple toward the little wooden pier, painted white with red posts, where the bright-colored little people were standing in groups waiting for them. There were groups of little men and groups of little women and groups of little children, some of them dressed in pink and some in green and some in yellow and some in orange and some in white and some in purple—but not a single one in blue, as Frances was the first to notice.

"Do you see, Margaret?" she whispered. "There isn't one of them dressed in blue. Not one!"