THE DAILY ENTERPRISE — NOVEMBER 23, 1883
Of course there are mermaids. The man who gets up and asserts to contrary is mad because he never saw one himself. Mermaids do not live it mill-ponds, rivers or lakes, but make their homes in the green sea. Several attempts have been made to induce a band of them to set up housekeeping in Lake Erie, but the waters are too fresh and lake Captains swear too much.
Those who have seen 300 or 40 mermaids agree in pronouncing them all that the most fastidious could desire. They have sparkling eves, Grecian noses, small ears, delicate hands, white teeth, dimpled chins and swan-like throats, and the way they smile at an old widower is enough to melt the iron nails in the heels of his boots.
The genuine mermaid is half fish, half woman, and there is no more beautiful sight in the world than to stand on the ocean beach at sunrise on a summer morning and watch a dozen of these creatures disporting in the flashing element. At one moment they dive down and secure handfuls of pearls to toss in tho air; at another they fan each other with pieces of coral worth $600 per pound. Their sweet voices blend deliciously as they strike up their morning song, and their ringing laughter sounds to the man on the sands like the steady fall of silver dollars upon a golden bell. Now they swim seawards until almost lost sight of —now they are so close on the shore that it can be plainly made out that every one of them is far better looking than the Circassian beauty of a traveling show.
