“Oh, indeed, indeed I will do just what you tell me to!” cried Dick, earnestly. “May we not start at once, please? And—and—” he added hesitatingly, “I am very much obliged for the tea.” The Old Witch of the Sea bowed with dignity, and said, “You are entirely welcome, I am sure,” in a very grand way. Then, as they began to walk on across the sand, she proceeded to talk further about herself,—her great age and her even greater wisdom. “You see,” said the Witch, “_I_ am one of the oldest inhabitants of the ocean. _I_ it was who gave Hans Andersen’s poor Little Mermaid her pretty feet, that hurt her so terribly until she was turned into sea-foam. _I_ told Mr. Andersen about the matter myself, by the bye. And _I_ fitted out Sinbad’s Cave. And _I_ sent word to the three Rhine maidens to come here and live after they had gotten back their gold. I explained that though Alberich and the gods and all those other horrid interfering creatures were very properly dead and gone, they never could tell what might happen in that Rhine neighbourhood,—horrid, scandalous place, I call it,—so they came here to live. Would you like to call on them? They live just around the corner.” And without waiting for Dick to answer, she whisked him around a big black rock, and into the presence of three very pretty young women, who were swimming about and singing a soft, rippling song. In a cleft on the rock glowed something bright and yellow. Dick did not know then that it was the famous Rhine gold. “I want to present to you—” began the Witch; but the three young women only cried, “We are busy guarding our gold,—don’t interrupt us!” And they began to sing and swim faster than ever. “Mannerless creatures!” grumbled the Witch, as they went on their way once more. “Almost as bad as that Lorelei girl. She lives farther down the rock-street, so we won’t call on her. She’s just as ungrateful as the rest, though I got _her_ here too.” At that moment a crowd of children came romping by. They were queer-looking little things, half of their bodies made up of scales and fins and fish-tails, and the other half of rosy pink and white flesh and blood. With them came a number of strange fishy animals that barked. “What are they?” asked Dick. “Mer-children with their pets, the sea-dogs,” responded the Witch. “Come and play with us,” cried the Mer-children when they saw Dick. “Come and play with the starfish, and have a ride on one of our sea-horses.” But the Witch would not let him join them, even for a moment. “The Mer-people are dangerous folk,” she told him. “These children are not like the Water Babies of whom you may have heard. If you played with _these_ too long, you would lose your own human soul, and become a Make Believe person, like the rest of us.” They went on in silence for a minute or two. “Oh, how pretty!” cried Dick, suddenly.