TWO CITIZEN CRABS OF NONSUCH 



had been the irresistible stimulus at the critical 

 moment — every egg had been deposited in it and 

 the great majority of embryos had felt the ancestral 

 demand for this fluid and had burst their bonds — 

 the soft egg tissues lying limp and torn. Out the 

 youngsters had come, full of that hope and vigor 

 which we, through our last one thousand genera- 

 tions of ease and over-comforts, possess only in a 

 pale diluted amount. The liquid was of the right 

 temperature and consistency, but some vital thing 

 was lacking, and after a few futile kicks and leaps 

 all had succumbed and settled to the bottom, dead. 

 This marked another bond between the little crabs 

 and ourselves, for immeasurably removed from the 

 old watery life as we are, yet if the humors of our 

 eye have run out or we have lost much blood, a skill- 

 ful surgeon can replace our optical or our life fluids 

 with salt water which in time will be absorbed and 

 replaced. If fresh water be used it is poison, and 

 blindness or death may result. 



All the litter of purple land crabs perished, and 

 I felt very sad. So primed were the little chaps for 

 instant reaction to liquid of any kind, that of a 

 dozen eggs taken from the parent and placed in 

 formalin, eight hatched into perfect zoeas within 

 the first three minutes, before the toxicity could be 

 felt. 



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