"Oh yes, I guess there was plenty of land," said Mollie, "but maybe somebody else owned it. Anyhow the Venetians came out here where there were a lot of little islands to begin with and drove piles into the water and built their city on them."
"Well that beats me," said the Unwiseman, shaking his head in bewilderment. "I've heard of fellows building up big copperations on water, but never a city. How do they keep the water out of their cellars?"
"They don't," said Mollie.
"Maybe they build their cellars on the roof," suggested Whistlebinkie.
"Well," said the Unwiseman, rising from the floor and walking to the front window and gazing out at the Grand Canal, "I hope this hotel is anchored good and fast. I don't mind going to sea on a big boat that's built for it, but I draw the line at sailin' all around creation in a hotel."
The droll little old gentleman poised himself on one toe and stretched out his arms. "There don't seem to be much motion, does there," he remarked.
"There isn't any at all," said Mollie. "It's perfectly still."
"I guess it's because it's a clam day," observed the Unwiseman uneasily. "I hope it'll stay clam while we're here. I'd hate to be caught out in movey weather like they had on that sassy little British Channel. This hotel would flop about fearfully and I believe it would sink if somebody carelessly left a window open, to say nothing of its falling over backward and letting the water in the back door."
"Papa says it's perfectly safe," said Mollie. "The place has been here more'n a thousand years and it hasn't sunk yet."