HOW THE LITTLE FISHES SLEEP
I often wonder how and where
The little fishes sleep;
They do not need to braid their hair
Before they slumber deep,
But possibly each little fish
Puts on a little gown
And goes to bed—and Oh, I wish
I knew where it lies down.
I wonder if it tumbles round
And kicks the covers off
And wakes at every little sound,
Or—does it have a cough?
I think it would, for mamma says,
When she turns down my lamp
I'll get the croup one of these days
From staying in the damp.
But maybe little fishes go
To sleep as you or I;
Waves rock the cradle to and fro
And sing a bye-lo-bye.
If they wear gowns, though—goodness me!
When washing-day is here
Where do they dry things in the sea?
I wish you'd make that clear!
"Humph! The Banjo doesn't seem to know any more about it than we do," said Zuzu, not fully satisfied.
"No," the Private Secretary replied; "that is true; but for some of these hard questions we may have to go to the Fairies for answer, and it is some distance yet before we get anywhere near the Fairy country."
"How far have we gone now, sir?" asked Zuzu.
"That," replied the Private Secretary, "is difficult to explain, for you must see that we do not measure distances as you do. However, I should think it would take us perhaps three or four more of what you call your hours before we are within sight of the Island of Gee-Whiz. We must first pass the Agalone Mountains. Indeed, it seems to me that I see that mountain range now beginning to appear before us."
