Just over the hedge was a little arbor covered with trailing sea-plants. As the merman spoke, two little white hands parted the broad crimson leaves of a dulse that hung over the door, then there swam out one of the loveliest mermaids in the whole sea. Her yellow hair shone like gold, and was full two yards long as it trailed on the water, for mermaids never wear their hair any other way. Her complexion was like the inside of a pink-and-white shell, and her eyes were like two clear, still pools of water, they were so pure and deep. As for the mer part of her, the dolphin’s tail, I declare it was only an additional beauty, she managed it so gracefully. I can’t begin to tell you how beautiful she was. She was a very intimate friend of the merman’s sister, and he had known her all his life—ever since they used to chase the fishes round the garden and in and out of the rocks, and make baby-houses together. “Where are you going?” said the mermaid to the merman. “Only North a little for my vacation trip.” “Without saying good-bye?” said the mermaid, smiling as though she did not care a bit. “I didn’t know you’d come home till I heard you singing, I sha’n’t be gone long; what shall I bring you?” “A tame seal to play with, if you can remember it.” “Tie a string round my finger,” said the merman. “You can wear this,” she said, holding up a seal ring of red carnelian. “I found it in the garden; I suppose it belonged to some human being.” It was a large seal ring, having two interlaced triangles cut in the stone. “That’s a spell,” said the merman; “it will keep away evil spirits.” “Then wear it,” said the mermaid, holding it out to him, and he slipped it on his finger. “Good-bye,” she said; “you won’t forget the tame seal?” “Certainly not; I’ll be home in time to dance at your birth-day party.” The mermaid swam away to the house, turning at the door to wave her hand to her old playmate, but he did not see her. His two sisters had watched their interview from an upper window of their own house. “He has no more eyes in his head than an oyster,” said the elder, in quite a pet. “It would be so nice,” said the younger, with a sigh. “It would be just the thing for him.” “Of course, and that’s the reason why he never thinks of it,” said the elder, who had more experience. CHAPTER III. _THE FIGURE-HEAD._ In the mean time, a most beautiful thing had grown out of the oak block in Job Chippit’s shop. Day by day Job worked at the figure-head of the Sea-nymph, Master Torrey’s beautiful new brig that was lying on the stocks all but ready for the launch. Job spared no pains on his work, and his wonderful success really astonished himself.