The Coral Palace
by
“Why, the ocean is full of cracked ice!” exclaimed Mary Louise, as she and the mermaid rose to the surface and looked about them. “I wonder what it was that caused such a tremendous crash?”
“Perhaps the Whale Ice Trust is after a big ice supply,” replied the mermaid with a laugh. “The ocean depths are no longer a quiet place since this dreadful hot weather set in. Just the other day I heard the King of the Mermen say that they were about to send a note of protest to Neptune for violating the laws of Merland!”
“I don’t know much about it,” said Mary Louise, “except that it’s very inconvenient to have one’s voyage disturbed in such a way. What are we going to do now?”
“How would you like to visit the Court of the Mer King?” asked the mermaid.
“Oh, lovely!” cried Mary Louise. “I’ve never met any kinds, although I’ve read about them in fairy stories.”
“Come along then,” said the mermaid. “Follow me straight down, for I think we are not very far from the Coral Palace, where King Seaphus holds court.”
Placing the palms of her hands together diving fashion, she gave her pretty tail a kick-off, and away she went, head downward, through the water.
Mary Louise followed her example, somewhat surprised at the ease with which she executed this difficult maneuver.
In a short time they found themselves on the bottom of the ocean. In the distance could be seen the dim outline of a magnificent castle of pink and white coral. Leading up to it was a wide highway, flanked on either side with beautiful sea-grass, and dotted here and there, like milestones, stood columns of beautiful coral. Banks of exquisite mother-of-pearl rose at intervals along the way; water plants of various hues grew in wild profusion.
“Why, it’s very much like the earth,” exclaimed Mary Louise, “only one doesn’t walk, and its not dusty, and–and it’s not hot and sunny!”
“No, indeed!” said the mermaid. “But sometimes we have a pest of water gnats that are worse than mosquitoes, and we have to put up netting on our bedroom windows to keep them out.”
As she finished speaking they approached the door of the castle, on which she knocked with a flap of her finny tail. It was immediately opened by a merman dressed in the uniform of a court page. “What can I do for you, Your Highness?” he asked, bowing low.
“Why, are you a princess?” asked Mary Louise in surprise, turning quickly to the mermaid and forgetting for the moment that they were on the steps of a real merman’s castle.
The little mermaid only laughed in reply, and taking Mary Louise by the hand led her through the coral doors to King Seaphus.
His Majesty was seated on a throne of pearl, studded with many precious stones. A long emerald robe fell from his shoulders and on his head rested a magnificent crown set with glittering jewels, which gleamed and sparkled in the dim light of the royal chamber.
“Ah, my daughter, whom have you here?” he asked, leaning from the throne and gazing intently at little Mary Louise. “Methinks she is a mermaidized mortal!” At which the King laughed loudly, for he was very fond of coining words and was busily engaged, when his state duties did not interfere, in compiling a new dictionary.
“You are right, Father Seaphus,” replied his beautiful daughter. “Let me introduce little Mary Louise.”
The King rose graciously and extended his royal right hand. Mary Louise made a low curtsey, finding it much easier now that she was a mermaid to perform this little act of graciousness on account of the flexibility of her tail.
Legs, of course, are indispensable for walking; but, then, in these days of new inventions, when the air is invaded by wing, and the earth traversed by wheels, and the depths of the waters by mechanical fins, walking may soon become a lost art! Something like this may have flitted through her mind, but she only answered in a trembling voice, “How do you do, Your Majesty!”