“That’s not the way to play cricket,” cried Boy, throwing down his bat in disgust.
“Who says it isn’t?” demanded one of the fishes, coming up to him.
“I say so,” maintained Boy stoutly.
“Very well, then I’ll fight you for it,” declared the fish, throwing off his coat.
“I’m sure you won’t,” said Boy, laughing at the very idea.
“Yah! cowardy, cowardy custard,” cried the fishes, dancing around him. “Afraid to fight; dear little mammy’s baby.”
Boy very wisely determined not to heed their taunts and walked back to the College, leaving the quarrelsome little fishes to themselves.
The sound of music from one of the class-rooms told him where he should find the Professor, and looking in at the window he saw the Crab standing beside a blackboard with notes on it waving a bâton, while a number of Oysters in rows were singing with their shells wide open.
“Come in,” he cried, when he saw Boy, and Boy went round to the door and entered the room.
“We have nearly finished,” said Professor Crab. “Perhaps you would like to hear the Molluscs sing.”