He did not feel he was doing his share[156] towards clearing up the trouble which threatened to break. Cudgel his brains as he would, there seemed nothing for him to do. It had been his idea to send Ted off, but since then he might just as well have been in Alaska for all the good he’d been. For a long time he lay there, without finding a way out of his difficulty.,
What a clear light green the water was under the wharf! You could see every single snail shell, every starfish, and every tiniest stone on the smooth, light-colored bottom. Whole schools of small fish darted, quick as lightning, between the slimy old piles. Once in a while a lazy eel glided under the wharf, wound slowly in and out, lay still a moment as if to sun itself, then slowly, curve after curve, took itself out again.,
When the King of the Peacocks' dinner hour arrived, there was nothing for him either in the saucepan or in the larder; his attendants looked askance at one another, and the King was in a terrible rage. "It seems, then, that I am to have no dinner; but see that the spit is put before the fire, and let me have some good roast meat this evening." The evening came, and the Princess said to Fretillon, "Go to the best kitchen in the town and bring me a joint of good roast meat." Fretillon obeyed, and knowing no better kitchen than that of the King, he went softly in, while the cooks' backs were turned, took the meat, which was of the best kind, from the spit, and carried it back in his basket to the Princess. She sent him back without delay to the larder, and he carried off all the preserves and sweetmeats that had been prepared for the King..
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