Dick, Marjorie and Fidge Part 16

"To weigh the anchor with," explained the Skipper, seriously. "We always have to weigh it when we start on a voyage, and again when we reach our journey's end."

"What for?" asked d.i.c.k, who certainly remembered having heard the expression "weighing the anchor" before.

"Oh, I don't know, I'm sure," said the Skipper; "pack of nonsense, I calls it; but it's the custom, and it's got to be done."

So the anchor was duly weighed, and the exact weight put down in a book, and the _Argosy_, as the ship was called, slowly moved out of the harbor.

It was a beautiful day, but there was just a little breeze blowing, and the sea was a little "choppy" outside, and, as a consequence, the _Argosy_ rolled a little.

After they had been out at sea for about an hour, and the Skipper had been letting them take turns in looking through his telescope, the Dodo suddenly muttered something about having "forgotten his pocket-handkerchief," and hurried down into the cabin.

"Why, I didn't know he had one," said Marjorie, wonderingly.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "Hope you're feeling better, Sir."]

The Skipper winked, and said in a whisper behind his hand, "They always say that; he's gone to lie down, the motion of the boat has made him feel a little seasick."

The Dodo didn't come up for a long while and at last the Skipper said he would go down and see if he wanted anything.

He found the poor bird looking the picture of misery, lolling limply against the cushioned seat.

"Hope you're feeling better, Sir," he said, respectfully, tugging at his forelock.

"Oh! oh!" groaned the Dodo. "Do throw me overboard, and let me die."

"Nonsense," said the Skipper, cheerfully. "You'll be all right in an hour or two."

"Oh, no," said the bird; "I shall never be well again. I have never, never felt so ill in all my life."

"Lie down, Sir, and I'll cover you up with this rug," said the Skipper, kindly; "you'll be better presently."

"Don't tell the others," gasped the bird, faintly.

"All right, Sir," was the reply, and the Skipper went on deck again.

The breeze was quite fresh still, and the children had climbed up into the "lookout," and were pointing eagerly into the distance.

"Land! over there!" shouted d.i.c.k, when he saw the Skipper.

"Oh! Ah! It's an island," said the Skipper. "I've been there before. The Archaeopteryx lives there."

"The what?" cried the children.

[Ill.u.s.tration: "'Charmed to meet you,' said the Archaeopteryx."]

"The Archaeopteryx," repeated the Skipper. "It's an awful name, isn't it?"

"What is he?" demanded d.i.c.k.

"A kind of lizardish bird, or a birdish lizard, whichever you like," was the reply. "He's a great swell, I can tell you, and fancies himself immensely."

The children were all eagerness to see this strange creature, and could scarcely wait until the ship reached the land.

The Skipper went down and told the Dodo, who, directly he heard that they would meet the Archaeopteryx, made a great effort to pull himself together again.

"I mustn't let him see me in this state," he declared. "He is a distant relative of mine, and a person of great consequence. Do you think," he continued, addressing the Skipper, "that you could clean up my gloves a little with some bread crumbs, they have become slightly soiled; and would you kindly rearrange my necktie?"

These necessary preparations completed, the Dodo staggered up on deck just as the _Argosy_ reached the sh.o.r.e.

The Archaeopteryx was waiting for them on the beach, and recognized the Dodo immediately.

"Charmed to meet you again," he said, hurrying forward to meet him, and raising his hat, with a polite bow. "Pray, introduce me to your friends."

CHAPTER XIII.

THE LITTLE PANJANDRUM'S BALLOON.

"Delighted to make your acquaintance," said the Archaeopteryx, when the necessary introductions had been made. "I've often wanted to meet some human beings; come and have luncheon with me. I've a couple of old friends staying here who will be delighted to see you." So saying, he led the way to where two most extraordinary-looking creatures sat waiting at a table, which was set for seven people.

"Both antediluvians," whispered their host, "the Palaeotherium and the Eteraedarium. Capital chaps, but crotchety."

Fidge was a little alarmed at first, for they were really very ugly.

They seemed quite amiable, however; and the Palaeotherium--his mouth full of banana--motioned them to seats at the table, and, turning to the Dodo, said, "Haven't I seen you before?"

The Dodo smirked, and, smoothing his gloves, said, in a self-conscious voice, "Very possibly we _may_ have met before. I don't remember you, but mine is a face which one is not likely to forget. Where did we meet, do you think?"

"I'm trying to remember," said the Palaeotherium, "it must have been several hundreds of years ago now, and my memory is getting so bad----"

"I once stayed with the Ichthyosaurus," said the Dodo. "It may have been there."

"Ah, that must have been it," said the Palaeotherium. "I met a curious lot of people there--very mixed lot of a.s.sociates _he_ had, to be sure."

"Ahem," said the Dodo, indignantly. "I hope you don't mean that I----"

"My dear Sir," replied the other, "I'm quite sure you are highly respectable; your gloves alone are a guarantee for that."

"Thanks," said the Dodo, looking quite happy again.

"Do you know any riddles?" asked the Eteraedarium, suddenly, addressing d.i.c.k.

"Let's see," said he, glad that the conversation had taken a turn which they could all understand. "I think I do know a few. Why is a robin like a waterbut?"

"First of all," said the Archaeopteryx, anxiously, "what is a robin, and who is a waterbut?"

"Oh, a robin," explained Marjorie, "is a dear little bird with a red breast that comes in the winter----"