"Now let's play we are pirates!" cried Zuzu. "Very well," said the Private Secretary. "The Banjo knows that a great many people feel like playing pirate, so perhaps it will sing of one or two." The Banjo then played for them the following melody: THE PIRATICAL JUNE-BUG A June-bug once went out to sea-- Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho!-- With sails aspread and helm alee-- Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho! He had a long, low, rakish boat; He wore a shining overcoat; He hummed and grumbled in his throat-- Yo-ho! the wild winds blow! This bold June-bug he said, said he:-- "Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho! A pirate's life is the life for me! Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho!" He roamed about the ocean blue And bossed his rumbling, stumbling crew, And sought for wicked things to do. Yo-ho, the wild winds blow! Now when a June-bug heaves in sight-- Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho! You'll notice it is full of fight-- Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho! When it sails by, with curve and dip, And strikes the wall with bang and "bip!" It's dreaming of its pirate ship-- Yo-ho, the wild winds blow! Yo-ho! Yo-ho, my lads, yo-ho! The submarine boat went ahead very rapidly all this time, dropping down until at length it struck the bottom at a depth of several thousand feet. Fortunately, it landed at a place where there was smooth, white sand so that no damage was done; and it at once began to run along the bottom of the sea. "I would rather go on through the water the way we were," said Lulu, "and not on the bottom, for I find it much more bumpy in this way." "True," said the Private Secretary, "but by journeying upon the bottom we are not so apt to get lost as though we tried to go directly through the water. If you will observe, we are now following the main traveled road to the Island of Gee-Whiz, and if all goes well we shall hardly lose our way. I need not explain to you that to be lost in the middle of the ocean, two or three thousand feet below the surface, is one of the worst things that can happen to a person. But don't think we are going slowly, because we are making at least a hundred miles an hour, as you may tell by looking at the scenery we pass." "And very beautiful the scenery is," said the Widow Pickle. "Look, my children, at the trees and the hills; and yonder is a high mountain all of coral, if I am not mistaken." "Quite right," said the Private Secretary. "This is one of the best places in the world for coral beads, and if we had time we could get all we wished." "Look, look, mamma!" cried Lulu, "isn't that a whale?" The Widow Pickle stopped to put on her glasses, and the Private Secretary answered for her. "Yes," said he, "that is a whale, and a very good one. See, it means to swim us a race." The great whale was now swimming alongside, its vast jaws working convulsively, and its tail in such rapid motion that long white sparks flew from its extremity.