“The same relation that the robin is to the waterbut,” said that bird, conclusively. “Come on, let’s get the Skipper to teach us how to dance a hornpipe,” and he led the way from the table, quite disregarding the fact that the others had not finished.
The Skipper, who had been quite as puzzled as the others were by these extraordinary conundrums, willingly agreed, and, first of all, danced a hornpipe himself very successfully, and then did his best to teach the others.
The Dodo, with his short legs and big body, very soon gave up trying, and, thoroughly worn out by the exertion, lay panting on the shingle, while the Eterædarium took his turn. He got along capitally, and the children laughed heartily at the queer capers which he cut.
They were in the midst of the fun, when the Dodo suddenly jumped up, and, pointing excitedly up into the air, cried, “Look! Look! What’s that?”
They all looked in the direction which he indicated, and after a time discerned a tiny speck in the sky, which the Skipper declared, after watching some time, to be a balloon.
“It’s all red,” cried Marjorie, whose eyesight was very keen.
“What!” exclaimed the Dodo, trembling. “Red! Are you sure?” he inquired, anxiously.
“Certain,” said Marjorie.
“Yes,” said Dick, “I can see it now; it’s quite red—a bright scarlet, in fact.”