PRODUCE OF THE DREDGE. 95 



examine our treasures disturbs our pleasant serenity, 

 and the well-known head-swimming and nausea which 

 ensue, categorically tell us that, let Schiller declaim 

 as he will, poetry won't control the liver ; and however 

 successfully Britons may rule the waves, the waves are 

 extremely disrespectful to their rulers. Que voulez- 

 vous ? The brain may be confident, but the liver is 

 upset ; heroism is futile against a chopping sea. We 

 can't pretend to be superior to these weaknesses, and 

 so we resign ourselves to sitting quiet, while the boat- 

 men turn over the mass, and hand us objects for in- 

 spection, upon which we decide whether they shall be 

 placed in the bucket of sea water, or returned to the 

 oyster-beds. 



Very droll it was, even in my languid state, to 

 observe Jack stooping and fumbling among the oyster- 

 shells, not knowing what his insane party might possi- 

 bly think worth carrying home, and for his part think- 

 ing the whole as big a heap of rubbish as ever he 

 saw. 



" This here any use, sir ? " he inquires, handing me 

 a huge oyster with an unexpressed sarcasm in the 

 question. I turn my green countenance towards it, 

 and suddenly forget the qualms, exclaiming — 



" Use, my dear fellow ! of course it is. Why, it is 

 a perfect colony of animals.'' 



" Well, sir, you knows." 



And he drops it into the bucket, plunging his hands 

 once more among the mass. That oyster, besides the 

 Polypes and Sponges growing on it, bore at least a 



