ny of these note-books seemed to be about sea things. There were six
thick ones filled full with notes and sketches of different seaweeds;
and there were others on sea birds; others on sea worms; others on
seashells. They were all some day to be re-written, printed and bound
like regular books.

One afternoon we saw, floating around us, great quantities of stuff that
looked like dead grass. The Doctor told me this was gulf-weed. A little
further on it became so thick that it covered all the water as far as
the eye could reach; it made the Curlew look as though she were moving
across a meadow instead of sailing the Atlantic.

Crawling about upon this weed, many crabs were to be seen. And the sight
of them reminded the Doctor of his dream of learning the language of the
shellfish. He fished several of these crabs up with a net and put them
in his listening-tank to see if he could understand them. Among the
crabs he also caught a strange-looking, chubby, little fish which he
told me was called a Silver Fidgit.

After he had listened to the crabs for a while with no success, he put
the fidgit into the tank and began to listen to that. I had to leave
him at this moment to go and attend to some duties on the deck. But
presently I heard him below shouting for me to come down again.

"Stubbins," he cried as soon as he saw me--"a most extraordinary
thing--Quite unbelievable--I'm not sure whether I'm dreaming--Can't
believe my own senses. I--I--I--"

"Why, Doctor," I said, "what is it?--What's the matter?"

"The fidgit," he whispered, pointing with a trembling finger to the
listening-tank in which the little round fish was still swimming
quietly, "he talks English! And--and--and HE WHISTLES TUNES--English
tunes!"

"Talks English!" I cried--"Whistles!--Why, it's impossible."

"It's a fact," said the Doctor, white in the face with excitement. "It's
only a few words, scattered, with no particular sense to them--all mixed
up with his own language which I can't make out yet. But they're English
words, unless there's something very wrong with my hearing--And the tune
he whistles, it's as plain as anything--always, the same tune. Now you
listen and tell me what you make of it. Tell me everything you hear.
Don't miss a word."

I went to the glass tank upon the table while the Doctor grabbed
a note-book and a pencil. Undoing my collar I stood upon the empty
packing-case he had been using for a stand and put my right ear down
un