"OctoPI, if you please; octoPI," said the monster with a laugh.
"I don't see any pie that pleases me," replied Trot, beginning to get angry.
"OctoPUS means one of us; two or more are called octoPI," remarked the creature, as if correcting her speech.
"I suppose a lot of you would be a whole bakery!" she said scornfully.
"Our name is Latin. It was given to us by learned scientists years ago," said the Octopus.
"That's true enough," agreed Cap'n Bill. "The learned scientists named ev'ry blamed thing they come across, an' gener'ly they picked out names as nobody could understand or pernounce."
"That isn't our fault, sir," said the Octopus. "Indeed, it's pretty hard for us to go through life with such terrible names. Think of the poor little seahorse. He used to be a merry and cheerful fellow, but since they named him 'hippocampus' he hasn't smiled once."
"Let's go," said Trot. "I don't like to 'sociate with octopuses."
"OctoPI," said the creature, again correcting her.
"You're jus' as horrid whether you're puses or pies," she declared.