On one occasion the queen of fishes was a little indiscreet and while snapping greedily at a worm got a hook through her nose. She succeeded in breaking the line and escaped having her royal bones picked by some hungry mortal, but she was still in a great dilemma, for she could in no way remove the cruel hook.

Her finny majesty grew very ill. All the officials in her kingdom were summoned and met in solemn council. From the turtle to the whale each one wore an anxious expression and did his best at thinking. At last the turtle was asked for his opinion, and announced his firm belief that a poultice made from the fresh liver of a rabbit would remove the disorder of their sovereign at once. He was listened to attentively, but his plan was conceded to be impractical, since they had no fresh rabbit livers or any means of obtaining them.

Then the turtle again came to the rescue and said that he had a passing acquaintance with the rabbit, whom he had occasionally seen when walking along the beach, and that he would endeavor to bring him to the palace, if the doctors would then take charge of the work, for the sight of blood disagreed with him, and he would ask to absent himself from the further conduct of the case.

He was royally thanked for his offer and departed in haste, realizing full well that his career was made in case he succeeded, while he would be very much unmade if he failed.

It was a very hot day as the fat turtle dragged himself up the hillside, where he fortunately espied the rabbit. The latter, having jumped away a short distance, cocked his ears and looked over his back to see who was approaching.

Perceiving the turtle, he went over and accosted him with, "What are you doing up here, sir?"

"I simply came up for a view. I have always heard that the view over the water from your hills was excellent, but I can't say it pays one for the trouble of coming up," and the turtle wiped off his long neck and stretched himself out to cool off in the air.

"You are not high enough. Just come with me if you want to see a view," and the rabbit straightened up as if to start.

"No, indeed! I have had enough for once. I prefer the water. Why, you should see the magnificent sights down there. There are beautiful green forests of waving trees, mountains of cool stones, valleys and caves, great open plains made beautiful by companies of brightly robed fishes, royal processions from our palaces, and, best of all, the water bears you up, and you go everywhere without exertion. No, let me return. You have nothing on this dry, hot earth worth seeing."

The turtle turned to go, but the rabbit musingly followed.

At length he said, "Don't you have any difficulty in the water?" Doesn't it get into your eyes and mouth?" for he really longed in his heart to see the strange sights.

"Oh, no! It bothers us no more than air, after we are once accustomed to it," said the turtle.

"I should very much like to see the place," said the rabbit, rather to himself. "But it is no use. I couldn't live in the water like a fish."

"Why, certainly not," and the turtle concealed his excitement under an air of indifference. "You couldn't get along by yourself, but if you really wish to see something that will surprise you, you may get on my back, give me your forepaws, and I will take you down all right."

After some further assurance the rabbit accepted the apparently generous offer, and on arriving at the beach, he allowed himself to be firmly fixed on the turtle's back, and down they went into the water, to the great discomfort of the rabbit, who, however, eventually became so accustomed to the water that he did not much mind it.

He was charmed and bewildered by the magnificence of everything he saw, and especially by the gorgeous palace, through which he was escorted by attendant fishes to the sick chamber of the queen, where he found a great council of learned doctors who welcomed him very warmly.

While sitting in an elegant chair and gazing about the surrounding magnificence he chanced to hear their discussion concerning the best way of securing his liver before he should die. He was filled with horror, and questioning an attendant, the whole plot was explained to him. The poor fellow scratched his head and wondered if he would ever get out of this place alive.

At last a happy thought struck him. He explained to them that the liver was the thing optionally put in and taken out of the abdomen, like eye glasses were put on and removed at will, and that it was available, though expensive, at market. Fearing that the water would wet his precious liver, he had taken it out of his belly and placed it on a rock before getting upon the turtle's back.

He further expressed himself as most willing to let them have his liver, with which to cure her majesty's disorder, and assured them that he believed one liver would answer the purpose. He gave them to understand that he felt highly honored in being allowed to assist in so important a work, and declared that if they would give the necessary order he would hasten on the turtle's back to the spot where he had left his liver and return speedily with it.

Marveling much at the rabbit's courtesy, the fishes slunk away into the corners for very shame at their own rude conduct in forcibly kidnapping him, when a simple request would have accomplished their purpose. The turtle was rather roughly commended to carry the guest to the place designated, which he did.

Once released by the turtle to get his liver on the rock, the rabbit shook the water from his coat, and winking at his clumsy betrayer, told him to find it himself, that he had only one liver, and that he intended to keep it. With that he raced away up the mountainside, and has ever after been careful to give the turtle a wide berth.