for, though we are so big, our throats are
small. We roam about in the ocean, leaping and floating, feeding and
spouting, flying from our enemies, or fighting bravely to defend our
young ones."

"Have you got any enemies? I shouldn't think you could have, you are so
large," said Freddy.

"But we have, and many too,--three who attack us in the water, and
several more that men use against us. The killer, the sword-fish, and
the thrasher trouble us at home. The killer fastens to us, and won't be
shaken off till he has worried us to death; the sword-fish stabs us with
his sword; and the thrasher whips us to death with his own slender, but
strong and heavy body. Then, men harpoon us, shoot or entrap us; and
make us into oil and candles and seats, and stiffening for gowns and
umbrellas," said the bone, in a tone of scorn.

Freddy laughed at the idea, and asked, "How about candles? I know about
oil and seats and umbrellas; but I thought candles were made of wax."

"I can't say much on that point: I only know that, when a sperm whale is
killed, they make oil out of the fat part as they do of ours; but the
Sperms have a sort of cistern in their heads, full of stuff like cream,
and rose-colored. They cut a hole in the skull, and dip it out; and
sometimes get sixteen or twenty barrels. This is made into what you call
spermaceti candles. _We_ don't have any such nonsense about us; but the
Sperms always were a light-headed set."

Here the bone laughed, in a cracked sort of roar, which sent Freddy
flying off the seat on to the grass, where he stayed, laughing also,
though he didn't see any joke.

"I beg your pardon, child. It isn't often that I laugh; for I've a
heavy heart somewhere, and have known trouble enough to make me as sad
as the sea is sometimes."

"Tell me about your troubles; I pity you very much, and like to hear you
talk," said Freddy, kindly.

"Unfortunately we are very easily killed, in spite of our size; and have
various afflictions besides death. We grow blind; our jaws are deformed
sometimes; our tails, with which we swim, get hurt; and we have
dyspepsia."

Freddy shouted at that; for he knew what dyspepsia was, because at the
sea-side there were many sickly people who were always groaning about
that disease.

"It's no laughing matter, I assure you," said the whale's bone. "We
suffer a great deal, and get thin and weak and miserable. I've sometimes
thought that's the reason we are blue."

"Perhaps, a