CHAPTER II
THE FISH WITH A COLD.
“WELL, which way shall I go?” said Girlie to herself looking up and down the lane, “for it will never do to stay here all day, you know. I wish I had a compass,” she continued, “I should know which way to go, then.”
Girlie had the haziest notions as to what a compass really is, but had come to the conclusion that you had only to look at one in order to find your way anywhere.
“I suppose,” she continued, “I had better follow the lane; it’s sure to lead to somewhere or other.”
She could see that a little further on the roadway took a sudden turn to the left, and, on reaching the corner, she found herself facing a large pond, by the side of which a fish, well wrapped up in a plaid shawl, was sitting on a wooden stool fishing.
On the other side of the road was a five-barred gate, on which sat a calf dressed in a bright blue coat, yellow-striped waistcoat, and red plush knee-breeches; he wore his hat quite at the back of his head, because of his horns, and had a scarlet geranium in his coat; he was tapping his hoof impatiently with a small cane which he carried in one hand.
“Here she comes at last,” he called out to the Fish when Girlie came in sight.
“O-o-o-b! o-o-o-b! o-o-o-b!” said the Fish, rolling his great eyes around and staring dejectedly at her, and then immediately resuming his occupation.
“What does he say?” asked Girlie, who, somehow or other, did not feel at all surprised at this strange sight; perhaps it was because she had read so many fairy tales.