into the sea.

Silence followed; the huge fish with a fin like a screw swam away,
and the silence deepened.

After sunset a breeze arose; the black box in the forest of seaweed
rocked and knocked against the stones, and at every knock it played,
so that the fishes came swimming from all directions to watch and
to listen.

The eel-mother was the first to put in an appearance. And when
she saw herself reflected in the polished surface, she said: "It's
a wardrobe with a plate-glass door."

There was logic in her remark, and therefore all the others said:
"It is a wardrobe with a plate-glass door."

Next a rock-fish arrived and smelt at the candlesticks, which had
not yet come off. Tiny bits of candle ends were still sticking in
the sockets. "That's something to eat," it said, "if only it weren't
for the whipcord!"

Then a great bass came and lay flat on the pedal; but immediately
there arose such a rumbling in the box that all the fishes hastily
swam away.

They got no further on that day.

At night it blew half a gale, and the musical box went thump, thump,
thump, like a pavier's beetle, until sunrise. When the eel-mother