bout, as the little
vessels rocked gently on the waves, which seemed to be half asleep,
singing soft lullabies to each other.

"Ripple blue and ripple green,
Foaming crest and silver sheen,
Sleep beneath the moon!
Till the daylight comes again,
Waking us to restless pain
All too soon."

[Illustration]

"Yes," I said, "this is a holiday-time for the waves, and still more for
the fish. All day long the poor creatures have a hard time of it, for
hundreds and hundreds of skilful and eager fishermen are on the look-out
for them. But at night their only enemies are those who live in the
water, and I have heard that the whale and the swordfish go to bed at
ten o'clock regularly, and never stir from their trundle-beds till six
o'clock in the morning. I do not state that as a fact, however, because
I am not positively sure about it." "Dear me!" said Brighteyes. "Just
fancy a whale in a trundle-bed! how very queer he would look!" "Does he
spout when he's asleep?" inquired Fluff anxiously. "Because the
bedclothes would get wet, you know, and he would take cold!"

Here, I am sorry to say, the other mice laughed, and Fluffy does not
like to be laughed at, so she was silent. Then said one of the seven
Winds, "I never saw any of them in bed, but I have seen their races, and
very funny they are. They have hurdle-races every Tuesday afternoon,
jumping over the fragments of wrecks which are strewn all over the
bottom of the sea. They lead a merry life, those whales; what with
hurdle-races and fish hunts and spouting matches. If one could not live
in the air, the next best thing would be to live in the water, I think.
Hi! yonder is a fleet of icebergs. Look, little Heavyones! that is a
sight worth seeing."

[Illustration]

Surely, it was very beautiful, though terrible. My silver beams lighted
up the huge masses of ice, till they looked like mountains of crystal,
moving slowly over the face of the water. The children gazed at them,
half frightened, half-admiring, and wrapped themselves more closely in
the warm, fleecy cloud. The icebergs formed a huge circle, and midway in
it the cloud floated, rocking like an airy vessel as the Winds breathed
softly on it. We were all silent for a time: then Brighteyes asked in a
half-whisper. "Is this the North Pole, Mr. Moonman?" "Why, no,
Brighteyes!" said Puff. "It can't be the Pole, for there isn't any pole
for it to be!" "Ye