some shrimps for
dinner,--I know a fine place for them,--or oysters if you like them
better."

Nelly was ready to eat anything, the sea air had given her such a fine
appetite; so they swam away to gather the pretty pink shrimps in scallop
shells, as little girls gather strawberries in baskets; then they sat
down to eat them, and Nelly longed for bread and butter, but dared not
say so. She was so surprised at all she saw, that this queer, cold lunch
was soon forgotten in the wonderful tales the mermaids told her, as they
cracked snails and ate them like nuts, or pulled the green sea-apples
tasting like pickled limes from the vines that climbed up the rocks.

"You don't seem to have a very large family, or have the others gone to
a party somewhere?" asked Nelly, rather tired of the quiet.

"No; there never are many of us. A new brood will be out soon, and then
there will be some little mer-babies to play with. We will show you the
Wonder-tree, if you are done eating, and tell you all about it,"
answered Silver-tail, floating away with a wave of the hand.

Nelly and Goldfin followed to a lonely place, where a tall plant grew up
from the sand till its branches reached the air above and spread out
like floating weeds covered with little pods like those we often snap
under our feet as they lie dry upon the beach.

"Only a few of these will bloom; for there never are many mermaids in
the sea, you know. It takes long for the tree to reach the light, and it
cannot blossom unless the full moon shines on it at midnight; then these
buds open, and the water-babies swim away to grow up like us," said
Silver-tail.

"Without any nurses to take care of them, or mothers to pet them?" asked
Nelly, thinking of the pretty baby at home with whom she was so fond of
playing.

"They take care of themselves, and when there are too many in one place
the old mermen send away some to another ocean; so we get on quietly,
and there is room for all," said Goldfin, contentedly.

"And when you die, what happens?" asked Nelly, much interested in these
queer creatures.

"Oh, we grow older and grayer and sit still in a corner till we turn to
stone and help make these rocks. I've been told by Barnacle, the old one
yonder, that people sometimes find marks of our hands or heads or fins
in the stone, and are very much puzzled to know what kind of fish or
animal made the prints; that is one of our jokes;" and both the mermaids
laughed as if they enjo