These words were addressed to a strange-looking person, who had been standing beside the Japanese Lantern for some time, silent, motionless, and mysterious.
He was dressed in the armour of a Samurai of old Japan, and leant upon a long and very sharp two-handed sword. His face was so stern and still that Coppertop could not decide if it really were his face or only a mask. And it made her feel most uncomfortable and nervous.
She had spoken to him several times, but he took not a bit of notice, which was extremely impolite, to say the least.
“Whatever shall I do with the horrid old thing?” she cried, and she wept faster than before.
Splash, splash, fell the big crystal tears, on to the steps of the ancient stone Lantern.
“Don’t splash so, up there!” cried a small voice, which sounded so very familiar that Coppertop ceased weeping, and, drying her little grey eyes, looked down.
And there, to her intense delight, she beheld Miss Smiler.
“Oh, you dear, duckie, little old person!” she cried. “However did you get here?”
“Oh, I just trotted along on my four legs,” replied the Camel, smiling up at her, “until I came to the sea, and then--
Myself and a Nautilus Put to sea In a beautiful ship Of purple shell. And the Nautilus smiled In the highest glee, But I felt far from well. For a storm came on-- As storms will do-- And rocked our shell-ship Fro and to, Fro and to, And to and fro, The way that shell-ships Rock, you know.
And I cried, ‘Though I’m fond of the ocean, too, With its billowy waves, so green and blue, I like it much better quite still, don’t you?’ But the Nautilus didn’t agree.
She said, ‘When it’s still As still can be, And there isn’t a breeze To fill my sail, Great fishes come up And stare at me, Till I feel my cheeks Grow pale.’
‘Don’t talk about “pale,”’ I cried. ‘Oh, please! I’m getting so shaky about my knees; Such rickety-rockety boats as these Should never put out to sea.’
For the storm grew worse-- As storms will do-- And rocked our shell-ship Fro and to, Fro and to, And to and fro, The way that shell-ships Rock, you know. Then the Nautilus into A rage she flew! ‘My beautiful ship Of shell,’ cried she, ‘Is far too good For a Cameloo!’ And she pushed me Into the sea.