"Great fun, I assure you! We have fish-balls every night, you know."
"Fish-balls at night!" exclaimed Davy. "Why, we always have ours for breakfast."
"Nonsense!" thundered the Whale, with a laugh that made the beach quake; "I don't mean anything to eat. I mean dancing parties."
"And do you dance?" said Davy, thinking that if he did it must be a very extraordinary performance.
"Dance?" said the Whale, with a reverberating chuckle. "Bless you! I'm as nimble as a sixpence. By the way I'll show you the advantage of having a bit of whalebone in one's composition;" and with these words the Whale curled himself up, then flattened out suddenly with a tremendous flop, and, shooting through the air like a flying elephant, disappeared with a great splash in the sea.
Davy stood anxiously watching the spot where he went down, in the hope that he would come up again; but he soon discovered that the Whale had gone for good. The sea was violently tossed about for a few moments, and then began circling out into great rings around the spot where the Whale had gone down. These soon disappeared, however, and the water resumed its lazy ebb and flow upon the shore; and Davy, feeling quite lonesome and deserted, sat down on the sand, and gazed mournfully out upon the sea.
CHAPTER XIII.
THE TALKING WAVES, AND THE OLD SEA-DOG.