When the Mermaid saw Andy’s smile, she smiled, too—a lovely smile, Andy thought—and waved a white hand to him in greeting.
She was now so near shore that she was halfway out of the water, and Andy could see that she was a green Mermaid, just the color a mermaid should be, of course, with a little green cap that fitted tightly over her head. Andy didn’t notice whether or not she wore a string of shells about her neck, and of course he couldn’t see her tail because she was in the water up to her waist.
‘Is this your boat, little boy?’ called the Mermaid.
She had a sweet voice, as soft as the rush of waves on the shore in the early morning, and when she shook the water from her eyes it fell all round about in silver drops as water would do for no one but a mermaid, Andy felt sure.
‘Yes, it is my boat,’ answered Andy, finding his voice at last. ‘I fell down and dropped the string and she floated away.’
‘I thought it was yours,’ said the Mermaid. ‘She is a beautiful boat.’
And with a strong push the Mermaid sent the little boat sailing toward Andy and up on the beach at his feet.
She waited until Andy held the boat in his arms. Then with a farewell smile the Mermaid turned and swam swiftly away.
‘Thank you,’ called Andy, remembering his manners, ‘thank you, Mermaid.’
A wave from a white, white hand was his only answer, and in a moment the little green cap was lost to Andy’s sight in the moving green water.