“I suppose they are painted,” said Mary Frances.
“Painted, me whiskers!” exclaimed the cat. “They are not painted. They are made of coral.”
“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.
“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?”
