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How The Whale Got His Throat
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IN
the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a
Whale, and he ate fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish,
and the crab and the dab, and the plaice and the dace, and the
skate and his mate, and the mackereel and the pickereel, and
the really truly twirly-whirly eel. All the fishes he could
find in all the sea he ate with his mouth—so! |
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Till at last there was only one small fish left
in all the sea, and he was a small 'Stute Fish, and he swam a
little behind the Whale's right ear, so as to be out of harm's
way. Then the Whale stood up on his tail and said, 'I'm
hungry.' And the small 'Stute Fish said in a small 'stute
voice, 'Noble and generous Cetacean, have you ever tasted
Man?' 'No,' said the Whale. 'What is it like?'
'Nice,' said the small 'Stute Fish. 'Nice but nubbly.'
'Then fetch me some,' said the Whale, and he made the sea
froth up with his tail.
'One at a time is enough,' said the 'Stute Fish. 'If you
swim to latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West (that is
magic), you will find, sitting on a raft, in the
middle of the sea, with nothing on but a pair of blue canvas
breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must not forget the
suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, one ship-wrecked
Mariner, who, it is only fair to tell you, is a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.'
So the Whale swam and swam to latitude Fifty North,
longitude Forty West, as fast as he could swim, and on
a raft, in the middle of the sea, with nothing
to wear except a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of
suspenders (you must particularly remember the suspenders,
Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, he found one single,
solitary shipwrecked Mariner, trailing his toes in the water.
(He had his mummy's leave to paddle, or else he would never
have done it, because he was a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.)
Then the Whale opened his mouth back and back and back till
it nearly touched his tail, and he swallowed the shipwrecked
Mariner, and the raft he was sitting on, and his blue canvas
breeches, and the suspenders (which you must not
forget), and the jack-knife. He swallowed them all down
into his warm, dark, inside cup-boards, and then he smacked
his lips—so, and turned round three times on his tail.
But as soon as the Mariner, who was a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity, found himself truly inside the
Whale's warm, dark, inside cup-boards, he stumped and he
jumped and he thumped and he bumped, and he pranced and he
danced, and he banged and he clanged, and he hit and he bit,
and he leaped and he creeped, and he prowled and he howled,
and he hopped and he dropped, and he cried and he sighed, and
he crawled and he bawled, and he stepped and he lepped, and he
danced hornpipes where he shouldn't, and the Whale felt most
unhappy indeed. (Have you forgotten the suspenders?)
So he said to the 'Stute Fish, 'This man is very nubbly,
and besides he is making me hiccough. What shall I do?'
'Tell him to come out,' said the 'Stute Fish.
So the Whale called down his own throat to the shipwrecked
Mariner, 'Come out and behave yourself. I've got the
hiccoughs.'
'Nay, nay!' said the Mariner. 'Not so, but far otherwise.
Take me to my natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and
I'll think about it.' And he began to dance more than ever.
'You had better take him home,' said the 'Stute Fish to the
Whale. 'I ought to have warned you that he is a man of
infinite-resource-and-sagacity.'
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| So the
Whale swam and swam and swam, with both flippers and his tail, as
hard as he could for the hiccoughs; and at last he saw the Mariner's
natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and he rushed half-way
up the beach, and opened his mouth wide and wide and wide, and said,
'Change here for Winchester, Ashuelot, Nashua, Keene, and stations
on the Fitchburg Road;' and just as he said 'Fitch' the Mariner
walked out of his mouth. But while the Whale had been swimming, the
Mariner, who was indeed a person of infinite-resource-and-sagacity,
had taken his jack-knife |
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and cut up the raft into a
little square grating all running criss- cross, and he had tied it
firm with his suspenders (now, you know why you were not to forget
the suspenders!), and he dragged that grating good and tight into
the Whale's throat, and there it stuck! Then he recited the
following Sloka, which, as you have not heard it, I will now proceed
to relate—
-
-
- By means of a grating
- I have stopped your ating.
For the Mariner he was also an Hi-ber-ni-an. And he stepped out
on the shingle, and went home to his mother, who had given him leave
to trail his toes in the water; and he married and lived happily
ever afterward. So did the Whale. But from that day on, the grating
in his throat, which he could neither cough up nor swallow down,
prevented him eating anything except very, very small fish; and that
is the reason why whales nowadays never eat men or boys or little
girls.
The small 'Stute Fish went and hid himself in the mud under the
Door-sills of the Equator. He was afraid that the Whale might be
angry with him.
The Sailor took the jack-knife home. He was wearing the blue
canvas breeches when he walked out on the shingle. The suspenders
were left behind, you see, to tie the grating with; and that is the
end of that tale.
WHEN the cabin port-holes are dark and green
Because of the seas outside;
When the ship goes wop (with a wiggle between)
And the steward falls into the soup-tureen,
And the trunks begin to slide;
When Nursey lies on the floor in a heap,
And Mummy tells you to let her sleep,
And you aren't waked or washed or dressed,
Why, then you will know (if you haven't guessed)
You're 'Fifty North and Forty West!'
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Read more about Just So
Stories at
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Story of the Week 
Think and Grow Rich
