Part 2

“I hardly dare think,” thought Mary Frances, “yet I can’t help thinking, can I? What queer table manners he has! I suppose his mother never taught him not to smack his lips when he eats--just to chew with the lips closed.”

“I chew all I choose!” exclaimed the dolphin. “My mother never sat at a table, you see.”

“Oh!” said Mary Frances, “did she stand?”

“Three feet high in her stocking feet,” solemnly declared the dolphin, which Mary Frances didn’t consider an answer at all; but was too polite to say anything that might be annoying to a guest.

“I wonder what I can give him for dessert?” she thought.

“If you please,” said the dolphin, and Mary Frances noticed that he was very pale, “if you please, I do not care for any. You see, I have deserted my post--that is enough dessert for me, and I shouldn’t wonder if I’d be punished enough for it in a minute--Oh! Oh! what is that! It’s the pirate’s cat!” and with a scream, he leaped out of the window into the water.

III

THE PIRATE’S CAT

“ME-OW! me-ow!” came the cat’s voice from the door.

“Oh, Kitty! Kitty!” cried Mary Frances, running toward it. “Why, wherever did you come from? I thought I had looked all over the ship.”

“Indeed,” replied the cat, “even if you had, and you have not, you wouldn’t have found me. The pirate’s been watching a year to throw me on board The Good Ferry.”

“Oh,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “the pirate--why, I haven’t seen any pirate!”

“Of course you haven’t,” said the cat; “he’s too smart for that. He’s been watching for a time when the dolphin had deserted his post.”

“Oh, dear,” thought Mary Frances, “it was all my fault;” but out loud she said, “Well, no great harm can come of it, anyway. Won’t you have some dinner?”

“Yes, thank you,” said the cat, looking longingly at the table.

“Take this chair,” invited Mary Frances, pointing to the dolphin’s place.

The cat leaped up on the chair, and carefully tucked a napkin into the collar on its neck. Mary Frances filled a plate with turkey and potatoes and gravy, and set it before the cat, who politely waited for her to take her place and begin to eat.

“Do not wait for me, Kitty,” said his hostess; “I’ve finished this course, thank you.”

Soon nothing was left on the plate.

Just as Mary Frances was going to suggest that ice cream might make a nice dessert, the cat began to tremble. It trembled so that the ship shook all over.

“Why, what is the matter?” asked Mary Frances. “Are you chilly?”

“Oh, dear, no,” replied the cat, its teeth chattering. “Oh, dear, no; but I forgot! The pirate will hang me! He will! He will!”

“Why will he hang you?” asked Mary Frances, quite bewildered, and a little frightened.

“Speak softly,” said the cat. “Come here, and I’ll whisper.” And behind his upraised paw, he told, “The pirate ordered me to eat the dolphin; and to bring his right fin to prove that I’d done it. And now I’m too full of dinner to do it.”

“Eat him, indeed!” said Mary Frances, angrily. “I’d like to see you!”

“Oh, would you?” cried the cat. “If you only hadn’t given me so much dinner, you might have had the pleasure--that is, if the dolphin had come aboard again. You see, I can’t do it now; I can’t catch him in the water. And the pirate said he’d come for me in an hour and nine minutes. It’s close to that now,” glancing at the clock. “Oh, what shall I do?”

“Why does the pirate want the dolphin killed?”

“Hush!” exclaimed the cat. “Speak softly! Come here! I’ll whisper the reason to you. It’s on account of the lost story. He thinks you might find it, and if the dolphin is destroyed, he can run down The Good Ferry. He can’t do the work himself, for he is bound in chains on his own ship, but he has prisoners on board whom he orders about, just as he did me. He can’t get within miles of The Good Ferry if the dolphin is guiding her. He was so mad that he didn’t notice when the dolphin first came aboard that the foam from his mouth was strong soapsuds, and washed the black decks of the pirate ship snow white.”

“But,” said Mary Frances, “you forget--if the dolphin guides the ship, the pirate can’t get you!”

At that the cat began to laugh joyously, and it laughed so hard that Mary Frances laughed too; and suddenly the meat course disappeared off the table and a huge block of ice cream appeared in its place, and Mary Frances and the cat--you know what they did.

IV

THE STORY OF THE LOST STORY

“LET’S go on deck,” said Mary Frances, when they had finished, “and perhaps you can tell me more about the lost story. But first you must solemnly promise that you will not eat the dolphin.”

“I solemnly promise,” said the cat, with upraised paw.

“Very well,” said Mary Frances, leading the way to the deck chair, on which she lay down, while the cat curled himself up on a coil of rope near her head.

“It happened in this way,” began the cat, in a low tone of voice, as he nervously looked around. “You know the ‘enchanted island’ is Storyland, and the home of the Story People. The Story King and Queen have ruled there forever. Well, one day a wicked fellow, who had always said there were no such things as fairies, somehow got into the ‘enchanted island’--it has always been a mystery to me how he did it--and stole a story, and carried it away and hid it. The trouble is that no fairy is allowed to find it. The boy or girl who takes it back will be the first person allowed to enter the ‘enchanted island’ since it was lost.”

“Do you know where it is hidden?” asked Mary Frances.

“I have a slight idea,” whispered the cat.

“Is it on board the pirate ship?” she asked.

“It cannot be. I have searched everywhere--everywhere--everywhere-everywhere--” drowsily replied the cat. Mary Frances noticed that his eyes were closing.

“Just one thing more before you go to sleep, Puss; just one thing more,” she said. “Do you know how long it will take to reach the ‘enchanted island’?”

“And they sailed away, A year and a day, To the land where the palm tree grew,”

murmured the cat; and, shake him as she might, that was the only answer Mary Frances could get, until, at length, she could get no answer at all.

After she was certain he was asleep, she went to the bow of the boat and called softly to the dolphin.

He swam up close alongside. “Are you all right?” he asked.

“I am, indeed,” replied Mary Frances; “but I want to tell you what the cat told me. First, I want to say that he will not hurt you because he is horribly afraid of the pirate, and he knows that he is safe on The Good Ferry as long as you protect it.”

“That’s right!” said the dolphin. “And now, how about the cat’s tale?”

Then Mary Frances told the dolphin the story the cat had told her.

“Why can’t we search for it now?” she asked.

“Well,” replied the dolphin, “I am not exactly sure about the cat’s tale myself, and every year I take one person direct to the island--that’s my orders--that’s my orders. None of them have ever found the lost story--so I’ve taken them direct home. That’s been my orders; that’s been my orders. Better go on, I say; better not take anybody else’s word, I say, I say.”

“All right,” said Mary Frances, “just as you say; but a year’s a pretty long time.”

“That depends,” replied the dolphin.

“A year is queer If it’s full of fear, A year’s a day If it’s full of play; And I’ve heard say A year will leap, If you’re sound asleep.”

And away it swam.

And then Mary Frances noticed that the sky was getting dark, and she realized that she was very sleepy. She made her way to the white cabin and undressed and went to bed, wearing the pretty clothing which she found in the wardrobe.

“If I waken suddenly, and want to go on deck, I’ll have on my negligee,” she thought, as she tied the dressing gown in place and slipped on the boudoir cap.

V

LAND AHOY!

MARY FRANCES awoke with a start, and rubbed her eyes.

“Surely I heard somebody call,” she said.

Again came the call, “Land ahoy! Land ahoy!”

“Why, that is what they called out on Columbus’ ship when they discovered America!” thought Mary Frances, hurriedly dressing. “I wonder if we are discovering anything.”

It was just getting light as she ran out on deck. At first she did not see any living thing except the dolphin, which was swimming ahead of the boat. She gazed around on the water. It was a deep blue color.

“It looks like the tub of bluing water when Nora rinses the clothes,” she thought. “I wonder if it will color anything?” She ran to the railing, dipped up a pailful and dropped in her handkerchief. “Just clear water,” she said; and hung it up to dry.

“Land ahoy!” came the call once more. Mary Frances looked up at the sails. There was the cat. He was sitting on the rope ladder, and holding his forepaws like a telescope. As soon as he saw Mary Frances, he pointed ahead and shouted, “Land ahoy!” Then she saw a dim outline of coast.

The cat scrambled down the rigging, and ran up to her. “Story Island! See!” he said.

“Why,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “why, how long have I been asleep? I thought you said something about a year!”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the cat. “A year and a day, I said, and that it nearly is. You have been asleep just three hundred and sixty-five days and some hours.”

“Have I really?” exclaimed Mary Frances; then hearing a sudden splash in the water, “Oh, what was that? Was it the pirate?”

“That? That wasn’t anything to be afraid of--just some flying fish,” answered the cat.

“Do they really have wings?” asked Mary Frances.

“They certainly do. Come, let us look into the water and see if there are any near the boat,” said the cat.

“Oh, oh, oh,” exclaimed Mary Frances, “what a beautiful fish I see! It has a tail of gold and a head of blue--turquoise blue. Isn’t it beautiful! See it, there!”

“Yes, I do,” said the cat; “it is an angel fish.”

“An angel fish! That’s just the right name for it,” said Mary Frances.

“Yes, I believe somebody who tasted one named it that,” said the cat.

“Surely nobody would eat such a beautiful creature,” Mary Frances said.

The cat smiled. “Its beauty is more than skin deep,” he said.

“Well, I wouldn’t eat anything so lovely,” said Mary Frances.

“That reminds me of a rhyme a fish taught me,” said the cat.

“That sounds mighty fishy,” thought Mary Frances, but she did not say anything.

“Shall I say it for you?” and without waiting to hear, he went on:

“Oh, mother, if you lived down in the sea And a fish you had to be, What kind of fish would be your wish? My own would be--an angel fish.

“With nose of loveliest turquoise blue, And tail-wings of yellowest golden hue-- I’m sure my most angelic wish Is to be an angel fish.

“Don’t you suppose when fishes die Their dream is never toward the sky; But if they’re good, their dearest wish Is to be an angel fish?”

“That is a pretty angelic wish, I’ll say,” added the cat. “Oh, there are some of the flying fish,” pointing to a distance from the boat.

“They are not anything like as pretty as the angel fish,” said Mary Frances.

“Oh, see the whale spouting!” exclaimed the cat, running to the other side of the boat.

And Mary Frances saw the long fountain of water shooting up in the air.

“My,” said the cat, “if I could just catch that whale, I could feed every hungry cat I ever heard of.”

“Why, how big is it?” asked Mary Frances.

“It’s twenty times as long as half again, and double the quarter wide,” said the cat.

“How large is that, if you please?” asked Mary Frances.

“If the length is multiplied by the thickness and then by breadth, it will give the correct volume,” said the cat; “at least, that’s according to tickle.”

“Tickle?” asked Mary Frances. “What is tickle?”

“Tickle is short for arithmetickle,” replied the cat.

“Oh?” said Mary Frances, “we don’t call it arithmetickle; we called it arithmetic.”

“That is nothing like so pretty a name,” said the cat, “and you get the same result.”

“But the size of the whale--” said Mary Frances, “what is it?”

“Can’t you do a simple little problem like that--when I’ve given you the rule?” asked the cat.

Mary Frances did not like to say that she had to give it up.

“Let bygones be bygones,” said the cat, “and look up ‘whales’ in the dictionary when you reach the island.”

“Oh, yes,” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Oh, I can see--I think I can see some houses! Oh, look, Cat, look! They are pure white!”

“Don’t you know why?” asked the cat.

“I suppose they are painted,” said Mary Frances.

“Painted, me whiskers!” exclaimed the cat. “They are not painted. They are made of coral.”

“What is coral?” asked Mary Frances.

“Come, I will show you,” said the cat, leading the way to the middle of the deck.

He lifted a wooden cover. Underneath was a deep box. The bottom of the box was made of glass.

“Now, you can see the bottom of the sea,” said the cat. “See? See? See the bottom of the sea?”

“Oh, look at those white trees!” cried Mary Frances, gazing down into the clear water through the glass.

The cat laughed. “They are not trees,” he said; “they are coral formations;” and he told her about the tiny coral insects which build coral growth by fastening their tiny shell bodies to each other.

“Do they know they are making trees?” asked Mary Frances.

“Oh, my, no,” said the cat. “They just grow naturally, like any other babies. Sometimes they make fan-like forms, or sponge-shaped ones.”

“Did they build the white houses over on the island?” asked Mary Frances.

“Of course not,” said the cat; “what a curious question. They live only in the sea. The houses are up in the air--but they built the island.”

“Not that big island!” exclaimed Mary Frances.

“You have not contradicted me before,” said the cat. “If you know all about it----”

“I beg your pardon,” said Mary Frances, very humbly. “Will you please tell me the rest?”

“They rest on the bottom of the ocean,” said the cat. “The houses are made of the coral which is dug out of the cellars,” he went on. “But, come, let us get ready; we are getting near port,” and he began to wash his face and smooth back his whiskers.

Mary Frances took the hint, and went into the cabin.

She tidied her hair, and put on a fresh ribbon, and when she went on deck, she took her pocket mirror with her.

VI

THE OLD WITCH AND THE IRON-CHAIN CURTAIN

“ARE my whiskers straight? Is my fur smooth? Is my face clean, please?” asked the cat without stopping, as soon as he saw her.

“You may see for yourself,” said Mary Frances, holding the pocket mirror before him.

“Ah,” he said, giving a sigh of relief. “I look absolutely scrubbed; I guess I’ll do!”

“Dear me!” said Mary Frances. “I do wonder how it will seem. Isn’t this a beautiful place? But I wonder why it looks so misty around the island. Can’t we ask the dolphin?”

“I guess we’d better not,” said the cat. “You see, a pilot doesn’t like to be questioned.”

“There is a boat coming this way!” exclaimed Mary Frances.

The cat began to shiver. His fur stood up on end. His tail lashed to and fro.

“It’s the old witch’s boat!” he cried. “She’s the pirate’s wife. I’m not afraid! I’m not afraid! I’m not afraid, though!” And he kept on saying, “I’m not afraid!” so often that Mary Frances began to laugh.

“St-stop that laughing!” came the voice of the old witch. “St-stop that laughing this instant, unless you have the lost st-story!”

“And if we have it, Madam Witch,” called out the cat, “what then?”

By this time the boat was quite near. They could see the old witch tremble. She turned almost as white as snow. Her two front teeth chattered.

“If you had it, the curtain would part!” she suddenly exclaimed, laughing. “I forgot for a moment! Don’t try to fool me, Cat! Away with you! Away with you! Find it, if you can! Find it, if you can! Ha, ha! Ha, ha! Haw, haw, haw!” and she waved an oar at the boat.

Then Mary Frances saw that all around the island was stretched an iron-chain curtain.

“Don’t look at it, S-Sissy,” said the old witch. “It’s so s-strong that s-steel will not s-saw it. It will remain about St-Story Island, and will not open until the lost st-story is found; and until it is found not a boy or girl in the world will hear a new st-story!”

“We will find it!” shouted Mary Frances. “We will find it and bring it back and open the curtain!”

“Ha, ha!” laughed the old witch, holding her sides. “Ha, ha! it’s well hid. It’s well hid. You’ll be old and gray before you find it, I’ll warrant--and as for the cat, he’ll be so old he will sh-shake around in his s-skin, I’ll warrant. Ha, ha! Be off! Be off!” and, quickly turning her boat, she rowed away.

VII

FINDING THE LOST STORY

THE cat looked at Mary Frances.

Mary Frances looked at the cat.

“Ha, ha, and ha, ha!” said the cat. “We’ll laugh at her some day!”

“We will!” said Mary Frances, “we will, Puss! Let us call the dolphin.”

The dolphin swam up at that moment.

“Whither now?” it asked. “Where shall we go, Cat?”

“64° 40´ W., 32° 40´ N.,” said the cat; and the dolphin swam ahead, turned the boat, and soon the island was out of sight.

“Come, I am hungry!” said Mary Frances. “Let us go into the dining-room.”

“The dolphin has plenty of element soup,” she thought.

There was the table spread with a fine feast, and both she and the cat enjoyed it.

Just as they were finishing dessert, they heard a pounding noise. They rushed out on deck. The noise was made by the dolphin hitting the side of the boat with its tail.

It whispered two words, “Pirate Ship,” and swam ahead again.

The cat made a telescope with his paws, and looked out over the water. “Sure enough!” he cried, in fear. “Oh, my! Oh, my! and I haven’t eaten the dolphin!”

“For shame!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “For shame! You have forgotten that he can’t come very near while the dolphin is at his post!”

“Oh, yes; that is so. Excuse me, please. But what does the pirate mean by coming, I wonder?”

“Do you suppose he thinks we may be near finding the story?” asked Mary Frances.

“That’s it!” exclaimed the cat. “I’ll wager my whiskers that’s his idea. So that if we espy it he’ll get it first.”

“Do you think we’ll find it?” asked Mary Frances.

“My fur feels as though we would,” said the cat. “Please tell me, is it sending out sparks?”

It was growing quite late in the afternoon, and quite dusky. Mary Frances, to her astonishment, saw great showers of electric sparks coming from the cat’s body.

“You look like a sparkler on the Fourth of July, Cat,” she said.

“Oh, isn’t that fine!” said the cat. “You see, it’s this way--the nearer we get to the story, the more sparklier my fur gets.”

“So we must be quite near,” said Mary Frances; “for I don’t see how you could get much more sparklier.”

“I forgot to tell you,” said the cat, “that after we find the story, the dolphin’s power to keep the pirate away is gone. We’ll have to race like a rocket to beat his boat.”

“Oh, my, what is the matter!” exclaimed Mary Frances, as the cat suddenly jumped high in the air, sending out a shower of sparks that fell at her feet on the deck. Over the side of the boat he fell, and all was dark as a pocket.

“Oh, Kitty, Kitty,” cried the frightened girl, running to look into the water, but she saw nothing of the cat. Neither could she see the dolphin. She could see the dim light of the pirate’s ship, and it seemed quite near.

“Whatever shall I do?” thought Mary Frances. “I really believe I am going to cry.”

Just at that minute she heard a scratching on the side of The Good Ferry.

“Who’s there?” she whispered.

No answer came. Just another scratching.

“Who’s there?” she asked again.

“Me-ow!” came a faint voice.

Mary Frances could see better now, for her eyes were getting accustomed to the darkness.

“Is it you, Puss?” she asked, peering down into the water.

When she saw it was the cat, she quickly let down the rope ladder, and the cat climbed aboard, and fell in a wet heap at her feet.

She lifted him carefully and carried him to the steamer chair. She did not notice that something dropped from his mouth as she lifted him.

She dried his wet fur, and went to the dining-room to get him a drink of water. There she saw a bowl of beef tea, which she took to him. She fed him a little at a time with a medicine dropper which she had found in the bathroom.

At length he opened his eyes.

“Where is it?” he asked.

“Where is what?” asked Mary Frances.

“The lost story,” whispered the cat. “I carried it in my mouth. That is why I couldn’t answer you when you asked who was there.”

“I didn’t see it,” said Mary Frances.

“Oh, dear, oh dear!” exclaimed the cat. “It must be on deck! Let us look for it!”

“You are not able yet,” said Mary Frances. “Lie still! I will look! Was it a roll or a book?”

“It was a glass bottle,” said the cat, “and it may have rolled back into the sea--if that is what you mean by ‘was it a roll?’”

Mary Frances went down on her hands and knees.

She crept all over the deck, feeling for it in the darkness. After a while the cat helped.

They worked all night, but could find nothing. In the morning, as it grew light, they both saw a dark green bottle caught in the top of the rope ladder which was fastened to the side of the boat. So lightly was the bottle held that it might easily have fallen back into the water and been lost again.

Mary Frances lifted it carefully. It was labeled--THE LOST STORY.

The bottle was sealed with a cork, and inside was a roll of paper.

“Oh, isn’t it too good to be true!” exclaimed Mary Frances. “Where shall we hide it?”

“Let’s label it CATSUP and put it on the side table in the dining-room,” said the cat. “Put the new label right over the old one,” he added.

“That’s a splendid idea!” cried Mary Frances. “I’ll do it right away!”

VIII

THE PIRATE CHASES THE GOOD FERRY

WHEN Mary Frances came on deck again, The Good Ferry was plowing the water so fast that a deep furrow of foam followed her. The dolphin was swimming so fast that it made deep waves with the motion of its tail.

Although going so rapidly, they could see that the pirate’s black ship was keeping the distance the same as at first between them.

“I believe he is gaining,” at length said the cat, who was using his paws for a telescope.

Mary Frances looked a little pale, but smiled. “I think we will make more time in a minute,” she said. “Let’s drop something overboard, and he may stop to pick it up.”

So they filled a suitcase with paper, and dropped it over the side.

They were delighted when they saw the pirate’s ship stop to pick it up. They could hear the loud ravings of the pirate when he found nothing inside.

The rest of the trip was very exciting, for the pirate’s ship at one time was so close that they heard the pirate say to the cook, “Blast ye! Blast ye! Why don’t ye jump aboard? Ye can make it in two jumps!”

“Jump yourself!” replied the cook.

Faster and faster swam the dolphin; faster and faster sailed The Good Ferry. Try as he would, the pirate could not overtake them. They saw him plainly, half a knot behind, jumping up and down on his deck, shaking his angry fists. As they reached the island he turned and gave up the chase in defeat.

When they came to the wharf, there stood the old witch, drinking ink out of a bottle.

“Ha, ha!” she honked. “S-so ye think ye’ve got the lost st-story, do ye? Well, ye haven’t; s-so there!”

Then she began to wave her arms about her head, laughing wildly. As Mary Frances stepped off the boat the old witch tried to snatch the story bottle out of her hand.

“Oh, you can’t scare me,” said Mary Frances. “Step aside, please,” and as she pushed past the wild old witch, the great iron-chain curtain fell with a crash, and before her was Fairyland, or Storyland, which, as you know, are one and the same.

IX

THE TERRIBLE PUNISHMENT OF THE PIRATE AND THE OLD WITCH

MARY FRANCES heard music and singing. She heard the words: