In Midsummer Days and Other Tales | Page 5

up again; it would cost more to repair than it's worth."
The voice belonged to the master of the mine, whose piano had fallen into the sea.
Silence followed; the huge fish with a fin like a screw swam away, and the silence deepened.
After sunset a breeze arose; the black box in the forest of seaweed rocked and knocked against the stones, and at every knock it played, so that the fishes came swimming from all directions to watch and to listen.
The eel-mother was the first to put in an appearance. And when she saw herself reflected in the polished surface, she said: "It's a wardrobe with a plate-glass door."
There was logic in her remark, and therefore all the others said: "It is a wardrobe with a plate-glass door."
Next a rock-fish arrived and smelt at the candlesticks, which had not yet come off. Tiny bits of candle ends were still sticking in the sockets. "That's something to eat," it said, "if only it weren't for the whipcord!"
Then a great bass came and lay flat on the pedal; but immediately there arose such a rumbling in the box that all the fishes hastily swam away.
They got no further on that day.
At night it blew half a gale, and the musical box went thump, thump, thump, like a pavier's beetle, until sunrise. When the eel-mother and all the rest of them returned, they found that it had undergone a change.
The lid stood open like a shark's mouth; they saw a row of teeth, bigger than they had ever seen before, but every other tooth was black. The whole machine was swollen at the sides like a seed-fish; the boards were bent, and the pedal pointed upwards like a foot in the act of walking; the arms of the candlesticks looked like clenched fists. It was a dreadful sight!
"It's falling to pieces," screamed the bass, and spread out a fin, ready to turn.
And now the boards fell off, the box was open, and one could see what it was like inside; and that was the prettiest sight of all.
"It's a trap! Don't go too near!" said the eel-mother.
"It's a hand-loom!" said the stickleback, who builds a nest for itself and understands the art of weaving.
"It's a gravel-sifter," said a red-eye, who lived below the lime-quarry.
It may have been a gravel-sifter. But there were a great many fallals and odds and ends which were not in the least like the sifter which they use for riddling sand. There were little manichords which resembled toes in white woollen stockings, and when they moved it was just as if a foot with two hundred skeleton toes were walking; and it walked and walked and yet never left the spot.
It was a strange thing. But the game was up, for the skeleton no longer touched the strings; it played on the water as if it were knocking at a door with its fingers, asking whether it might come in.
The game was up. A school of sticklebacks came and swam right through the box, and when they trailed their spikes over the strings, the strings sounded again; but they played in a new way, for now they were tuned to another pitch.
***
On a rosy summer evening soon afterwards two children, a boy and a girl, were sitting on the landing-bridge. They were not thinking of anything in particular, unless it was a tiny piece of mischief, when all at once they heard soft music from the bottom of the sea, which startled them.
"Do you hear it?"
"Yes, what is it? It sounds like scales."
"No, it's the song of the gnats."
"No, it's a mermaid!"
"There are no mermaids. The schoolmaster said so."
"The schoolmaster doesn't know."
"Oh! do listen!"
They listened for a long time, and then they went away, home.
Presently two newly arrived summer guests sat down on the bridge; he looked into her eyes, which reflected the golden sunset and the green shores. Then they heard the sounds of music; it sounded as if somebody were playing on musical glasses, but in a strange new key, only heard in the dreams of those who dream of giving a new message to the world. But they never thought of looking for any outside source, they believed that it was the song which their own hearts were singing.
Next a couple of annual visitors came sauntering along; they knew the trick and took a delight in saying in a loud voice:
"It is the submerged piano of the master of the mine."
But whenever there were only new arrivals present, who did not know anything about it, they were puzzled and enjoyed the music, until some of the older ones came and enlightened them. And then they enjoyed it no longer.
The musical box lay there all the summer. The sticklebacks taught their art to the bass, who became much