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How the Whale Got His Throat: E239

How the Whale Got His Throat

How the Whale Got His Throat
Rudyard Kipling 

If you enjoy our podcast, you can rate, review, and subscribe at here

Did you know Kathleen is also a children’s picture book author, you can find out more about her books at www.kathleenpelley.com

How the Whale Got His Throat

September 7, 2023

E239

Do you know anyone who is very very clever?  Now I don’t just mean someone who is very good at mathematics or geography or some subject you learn in school.  I mean someone who is just very clever about life – who has what we often call, common sense.  He or she has a knack for figuring out very quickly how to get out of a sticky situation or even how to avoid one in the first place. 

Hello everyone. I’m Kathleen Pelley.  Welcome to Journey with Story.  I am sure some of you do know a person like that who has lots of common sense – usually they are the sort of person we want with us when we set off on a journey or an adventure.  Well, today’s story is a very famous tale by a very famous writer, Rudyard Kipling, who wrote a book called the Just So Stories about all kinds of animals. Our story today is How the Whale Got His Throat and you will meet a character who has a knack for getting out of sticky situations – Rudyard Kipling describes him as a. man of infinite resources and sagacity – don’t you just love those words – Rudyard Kipling’s stories are full of marvelous words like these and don’t worry if you cannot understand every single one – you will get the meaning as we go along. Sagacity – in case you are wondering just means wisdom. 

Thanks to all of our listeners of infinite resource and sagacity for rating reviewing and sharing this podcast. 

Oh, there is a little fish in the story called a ‘stute fish and ‘stute is a shortened form of the word astute When we finish the story, I bet you will know what the word astute means. 

Let’s take a journey with How the Whale Got His Throat 

ON the sea, once upon a time, O my Best Beloved, there was a Whale, and he ate fishes. He ate the starfish and the garfish, and the crab and the dab, and the plaice and the dace, and the skate and his mate, and the mackereel and the pickereel, and the really truly twirly-whirly eel. All the fishes he could find in all the sea he ate with his mouth–so! Till at last there was only one small fish left in all the sea, and he was a small ‘Stute Fish, and he swam a little behind the Whale’s right ear, so as to be out of harm’s way. Then the Whale stood up on his tail and said, ‘I’m hungry.’ And the small ‘Stute Fish said in a small ‘stute voice, ‘Noble and generous Cetacean, have you ever tasted Man?’ 

‘No,’ said the Whale. ‘What is it like?’ 

‘Nice,’ said the small ‘Stute Fish. ‘Nice but nubbly.’  

‘Then fetch me some,’ said the Whale, and he made the sea froth up with his tail. 

‘One at a time is enough,’ said the ‘Stute Fish. ‘If you swim to latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West (that is magic), you will find, sittingon a raft, in the middle of the sea, with nothing on but a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must not forget the suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, one ship-wrecked Mariner, who, it is only fair to tell you, is a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.’ 

So the Whale swam and swam to latitude Fifty North, longitude Forty West, as fast as he could swim, and on a raft, in the middle of the sea, with nothing to wear except a pair of blue canvas breeches, a pair of suspenders (you must particularly remember the suspenders, Best Beloved), and a jack-knife, he found one single, solitary shipwrecked Mariner, trailing his toes in the water. (He had his mummy’s leave to paddle, or else he would never have done it, because he was a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.) 

Then the Whale opened his mouth back and back and back till it nearly touched his tail, and he swallowed the shipwrecked Mariner, and the raft he was sitting on, and his blue canvas breeches, and the suspenders (which you must not forget), and the jack-knife–He swallowed them all down into his warm, dark, inside cup-boards, and then he smacked his lips–so, and turned round three times on his tail. 

[Imagine a picture of the Whale swallowing the Mariner with his infinite-resource-and-sagacity, and the raft and the jack-knife and his suspenders, which you must not forget. The buttony-things are the Mariner’s suspenders, and you can see the knife close by them. He is sitting on the raft, but it has tilted up sideways, so you don’t see much of it. The whity thing by the Mariner’s left hand is a piece of wood that he was trying to row the raft with when the Whale came along. The piece of wood is called the jaws-of-a-gaff. The Mariner left it outside when he went in. The Whale’s name was Smiler, and the Mariner was called Mr. Henry Albert Bivvens, A.B. The little ‘Stute Fish is hiding under the Whale’s tummy, or else I would have drawn him. The reason that the sea looks so ooshy-skooshy is because the Whale is sucking it all into his mouth so as to suck in Mr. Henry Albert Bivvens and the raft and the jack-knife and the suspenders. You must never forget the suspenders.] 

But as soon as the Mariner, who was a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity, found himself truly inside the Whale’s warm, dark, inside cup-boards, he stumped and he jumped and he thumped and he bumped, and he pranced and he danced, and he banged and he clanged, and he hit and he bit, and he leaped and he creeped, and he prowled and he howled, and he hopped and he dropped, and he cried and he sighed, and he crawled and he bawled, and he stepped and he lepped, and he danced hornpipes where he shouldn’t, and the Whale felt most unhappy indeed. (Have you forgotten the suspenders?) 

So he said to the ‘Stute Fish, ‘This man is very nubbly, and besides he is making me hiccough. What shall I do?’ 

‘Tell him to come out,’ said the ‘Stute Fish. 

So the Whale called down his own throat to the shipwrecked Mariner, ‘Come out and behave yourself. I’ve got the hiccoughs.’ 

‘Nay, nay!’ said the Mariner. ‘Not so, but far otherwise. Take me to my natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and I’ll think about it.’ And he began to dance more than ever. 

‘You had better take him home,’ said the ‘Stute Fish to the Whale. ‘I ought to have warned you that he is a man of infinite-resource-and-sagacity.’ 

So the Whale swam and swam and swam, with both flippers and his tail, as hard as he could for the hiccoughs; and at last he saw the Mariner’s natal-shore and the white-cliffs-of-Albion, and he rushed half-way up the beach, and opened his mouth wide and wide and wide, and said, ‘Change here for Winchester, Ashuelot, Nashua, Keene, and stations on the Fitchburg Road;’ and just as he said ‘Fitch’ the Mariner walked out of his mouth. But while the Whale had been swimming, the Mariner, who was indeed a person of infinite-resource-and-sagacity, had taken his jack-knife and cut up the raft into a little square grating all running criss-cross, and he had tied it firm with his suspenders (now, you know why you were not to forget the suspenders!), and he dragged that grating good and tight into the Whale’s throat, and there it stuck! Then he recited the following Sloka, which, as you have not heard it, I will now proceed to relate– 

By means of a grating 

I have stopped your ating. 

For the Mariner he was also an Hi-ber-ni-an. And he stepped out on the shingle, and went home to his mother, who had given him leave to trail his toes in the water; and he married and lived happily ever afterward. So did the Whale. But from that day on, the grating in his throat, which he could neither cough up nor swallow down, prevented him eating anything except very, very small fish; and that is the reason why whales nowadays never eat men or boys or little girls. 

The small ‘Stute Fish went and hid himself in the mud under the Door-sills of the Equator. He was afraid that the Whale might be angry with him. 

HERE is the Whale looking for the little ‘Stute Fish, who is hiding under the Door-sills of the Equator. The little ‘Stute Fish’s name was Pingle. He is hiding among the roots of the big seaweed that grows in front of the Doors of the Equator. I have drawn the Doors of the Equator. They are shut. They are always kept shut, because a door aught always to be kept shut. The ropy-thing right across it is the Equator itself; and the things that look like rocks are the two giants Moar and Koar, that keep the Equator in order. They drew the shadow-pictures on the doors of the Equator, and they carved all those twisty fishes under the Doors. The beaky-fish are called beaked Dolphins, and the other fish with the queer heads are called Hammer-headed Sharks. The Whale never found the little ‘Stute Fish till he got over his temper, and then they became good friends again. 

 The Sailor took the jack-knife home. He was wearing the blue canvas breeches when he walked out on the shingle. The suspenders were left behind, you see, to tie the grating with; and that is the end of that tale. 

Did you have a favorite character in this story – the mariner (sailor) the whale or maybe the little ‘stute fish.  Do you know now what astute means?  Yes, it means very clever indeed. 

What do you think the story’s souvenir is?  If you want to see some pictures of this story, you can go to the library and check out the Just So stories and you will see the picture of the whale and the mariner.  But if you feel like drawing your own version, we would love to see those so do send them to us at www.journeywithstory.com 

Cheerio then, join me next time for Journey with Story. 

 

 

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