far out in the sea the water is as blue as the petals of the most beautiful corn-flower, and as clear as the purest glass. but it is very deep, deeper than any cable will sound; many steeples must be placed one above the other to reach from the ground to the surface of the water. and down there live the sea-people.
now, you must not believe there is nothing down there but the naked sand; no,—the strangest trees and plants grow there, so pliable in their stalks and leaves that at the least motion of the water they move just as if they had life. all fishes, great and small, glide among the twigs, just as here the birds do in the trees. in the deepest spot of all lies the sea-king’s castle: the walls are of coral, and the tall, gothic windows of the clearest amber; shells form the roof, and they open and shut according as the water flows. it looks lovely, for in each shell lie gleaming pearls, a single one of which would have great value in a queen’s diadem.
the sea-king below there had been a widower for many years, while his old mother kept house for him. she was a clever woman, but proud of her rank, so she wore twelve oysters on her tail, while the other great people were only allowed to wear six. beyond this she was deserving of great praise, especially because she was very fond of her grand-daughters, the little sea-princesses. these were six pretty children; but the youngest was the most beautiful of all. her skin was as clear and as fine as a rose leaf; her eyes were as blue as the deepest sea; but, like all the rest, she had no feet, for her body ended in a fish-tail.
