world--or the water, either. You know what they're like, Trot,
they's got a lovely lady's form down to the waist, an' then the
other half of 'em's a fish, with green an' purple an' pink scales
all down it."

"Have they got arms, Cap'n Bill?"

"'Course, Trot; arms like any other lady. An' pretty faces that
smile an' look mighty sweet an' fetchin'. Their hair is long an'
soft an' silky, an' floats all around 'em in the water. When they
comes up atop the waves, they wring the water out'n their hair and
sing songs that go right to your heart. If anybody is unlucky enough
to be 'round jes' then, the beauty o' them mermaids an' their sweet
songs charm 'em like magic; so's they plunge into the waves to get
to the mermaids. But the mermaids haven't any hearts, Trot, no
more'n a fish has; so they laughs when the poor people drown an'
don't care a fig. That's why I says, an' I says it true, that nobody
never sawr a mermaid an' lived to tell the tale."

"Nobody?" asked Trot.

"Nobody a tall."

"Then how do you know, Cap'n Bill?" asked the little girl, looking
up into his face with big, round eyes.

Cap'n Bill coughed. Then he tried to sneeze, to gain time. Then he
took out his red cotton handkerchief and wiped his bald head with
it, rubbing hard so as to make him think clearer. "Look, Trot; ain't
that a brig out there?" he inquired, pointing to a sail far out in