Author: Louis Slobodkin
Copyright Date: 1956
Pagination: 38 p.
A long time ago, when mermaids splashed gaily about in the glittering distant seas, there were schools of little mermaids, the same as there are schools of fishes. And it was at these schools that the little mermaids learned all the things they ought to know before they grew up.
They learned such things as Swimming Gracefully, Dancing O’er the Waves and Riding Sea Horses. And, too, there were classes in Arts and Seacrafts. (Weaving seaweed doilies and making necklaces of colored shells were some of the seacrafts.) And most important of all was a class where they were taught Singing on the Rocks. Because as everyone knows, “singing on the rocks as they comb their beautiful hair” is what mermaids do most of the time.
One of the best schools of mermaids was the Blue Rocks School which was somewhere out in the center of the great Southern Sea. There were good teachers for all the classes but the teacher who taught singing in that school was the best of all.
Now everyone believes that all little mermaids always had long golden hair and that they all sang wonderfully sweet. But that is not exactly true!
There was once a little mermaid who had long bright red hair. And she could not sing wonderfully sweet ... and she knew it! Her name was Cynthia and she had come to the Blue Rocks School from a distant Northern sea.
On her first day at school Cynthia got along very nicely in almost all of the classes. She swam gracefully and delighted the dancing teacher with the way she danced through the waves. She rode her sea horse as swiftly as any of the others and was better than many of them in Arts and Seacrafts.
But when she came to the singing class she did not do so well ... not at all!
All the little mermaids gathered on the Blue Rocks at the end of the day for the singing class. The singing teacher sat on the highest rock. She began the class by saying:
“Now girls ... First we shall sing our school song, ‘Hail to Thee, Fair Blue Rocks’ ... I shall sing it first ... alone.”
She blew her seashell pitch pipe once and sang:
“Now,” said the singing teacher, “everyone get out combs and we’ll sing together. Comb and sing ... sing and comb ... One, two ... one, two ... begin.”“Oh ... to be where the Blue Rocks