“Carrot! Who ever heard of a sea carrot?” grunted Kabumpo. “I’m afraid you’re not yourself, my boy. Let me see it.”
Snaps and crunches, as Pompa consumed his strange catch, were the only answer, and in real alarm the Elegant Elephant moved away from the shore, and in doing so bumped against a white sign, stuck in the sand.
“Please Don’t Fall In,” directed the sign politely, “It Spoils The Soup.”
“Soup!” sputtered Kabumpo. Then another sign caught his eye: “Soup Sea—Salted To Taste—Help Yourself.”
“Come down—come down here directly!” cried the Elegant Elephant, snatching the Prince from his back. “Here’s the soup—a whole sea full. Now all you need is a bowl.”
Swallowing convulsively the last bit of carrot, Pompa stood staring out over the tossing, smoking soup sea. Every now and then a bone or a vegetable would bob out of the waves, and the poor hungry Prince of Pumperdink thought he had never seen a more lovely sight in his life.
“We’ll probably be awarded a china medal for this,” chuckled the Elegant Elephant. “Won’t old Pumper’s eyes stick out when we tell him about it? But now for a bowl!”
Swinging his trunk gently, Kabumpo walked up the white beach, and had not gone more than a dozen steps before he came to a cluster of huge shells. He turned one over curiously. “Why, it’s a soup bowl,” whistled the Elegant Elephant. He rushed back with it to Pompadore, who still stood dreamily surveying the soup.
“I never thought I’d be so thrilled by a common soup bowl,” thought Kabumpo, staring at the Prince in amusement. He stepped out on a rock and dipped up a bowl of the hot liquid.
“Here! Drink!” commanded the Elegant Elephant, handing the bowl to the Prince. “Drink to the Proper Princess and the future Queen of Pumperdink.”