But when one is very much excited, will not imagination produce almost any kind of an object that happens to come into the mind?  Ah, I am afraid so.  Still, there are both Folks and fishes that believe in the mermaids and their songs, and what am I that I should dare dispute them!

Yet—­let me whisper—­I have heard that Folks who do not know so very much, will tell about “goblins,” “spooks,” and “catch-ums,” and whenever there is talk about the mermaids and the sirens, I think of those Folks who believe in creatures that “never were.”

But it would not do to talk in my watery home as if I had no belief in mermaids, because, you see, as most fishes have never been with Folks, and learned a thing or two from them, they do not know any better than to believe in these sweet, dangerous creatures.

So, now, here came Dolphy, with flapping fins, wild eye, and his story of a mermaid’s cave.  Then a party was made up to go and see the rare and amazing place.

Well, it did look as if some creatures of surprising taste and skill had brought together a collection of shells such as are never seen above the surface of the sea, and formed, indeed, a cave fit for a mermaid’s home.

I know little about time, but it must have been days and nights I stayed in the enchanting place, roving hither and thither, rubbing my fins against the soft, smooth shells, and half wondering how they really came to be grouped together in such shining rows.

And the colors!  And the shapes!  Some were well-opened on the inside, and looked as if entirely covered with pink enamel.  They were of clear, ivory white, pinkish white, pale rose, deep rose, pale yellow, or straw color, orange yellow, blue and green mixed in glossy sheen, shades of pink running into rich reds, purples and grayish pinks, making the fair, sweet mother-o’-pearl.

Some were cup-shaped, having deep hollows.  Should you hold your ear fairly shut into one of these, it is said you would hear always as often as you so held it, the roaring of the ocean.  And a roaring sound you would hear, in very truth.  Yet, let me tell you!  Take a common china cup, shut your ear into it, and the same roaring will be heard.

Is that old ocean?  No, it is simply the sound of your own blood coursing through your veins.

A wide-awake Frenchman once wrote that, could you look within your own body and see the engines pumping, the valves opening and shutting, the pipes working, and the whole machinery in action, it would surprise and perhaps scare you into the bargain.

We have got a little off the track, but it is well to know the facts about these things.  Now we will return to the shells.

Look at that splendid one shaped like a bowl, but with pink lips rolled back, through which can be seen changing tints of pink and white.  Here is one that is oblong, lined with rose enamel, but having strange horns pointing out at one side.