all being sawn at the same time; then a cleft opened
in the water which went down to the bottom of the sea, and there, wedged
between three stones, stood a black box, which sang and played and
tinkled and jingled, close to the eel-mother and her son, who hastily
disappeared in the lowest depths of the ocean.

Then a voice up above shouted:--

"Three fathoms deep! Impossible! Leave it alone. It isn't worth while
hauling the old lumber up again; it would cost more to repair than it's
worth."

The voice belonged to the master of the mine, whose piano had fallen
into the sea.

Silence followed; the huge fish with a fin like a screw swam away, and
the silence deepened.

After sunset a breeze arose; the black box in the forest of seaweed
rocked and knocked against the stones, and at every knock it played,
so that the fishes came swimming from all directions to watch and to
listen.

The eel-mother was the first to put in an appearance. And when she saw
herself reflected in the polished surface, she said: "It's a wardrobe
with a plate-glass door."

There was logic in her remark, and therefore all the others said: "It is
a wardrobe with a plate-glass door."

Next a rock-fish arrived and smelt at the candlesticks, which had
not yet come off. Tiny bits of candle ends were still sticking in the
sockets. "That's something to eat," it said, "if only it weren't for the
whipcord!"

Then a great bass came and lay flat on the pedal; but immediately there
arose such a rumbling in the box that all the fishes hastily swam away.

They got no further on that day.

At night it blew half a gale, and the musical box went thump, thump,
thump, like a pavier's beetle, until sunrise. When the eel-mother
and all the rest of them returned, they found that it had undergone a
change.

The lid stood open like a shark's mouth; they saw a row of teeth, bigger
than they had ever seen before, but every other tooth was black. The
whole machine was swollen at the sides like a seed-fish; the boards were
bent, and the pedal pointed upwards like a foot in the act of walking;
the arms of the candlesticks looked like clenched fists. It was a
dreadful sight!

"It's falling to pieces," screamed the bass, and spread out a fin, ready
to turn.

And now the boards fell off, the box was open, and one could see what it
was like inside; and that was the prettiest sight of all.

"It's a trap! Don't go too near!" said the eel-mother.

"It's a hand-loom!