NONSUCH 



limpet or a mussel and we will leave the world of 

 snails. Again please visualize a limpet which has 

 attained adult snailhood unharmed by elements or 

 waterfowl. He is crouched in his perfect fitting 

 form, perhaps peering out through the merest crack 

 at his two-plane world, when he feels the touch of a 

 tentacle on his shell. Instantly he draws tightly 

 down and does everything which a limpet does in 

 the way of bolts, bars, portcullis, blinds and vizors. 

 Still his sensitive shell transmits the shifting play of 

 a delicate touch. Then a heavy weight presses down, 

 and for a time nothing more happens. One of the 

 most terrible sounds in the world is the sudden, un- 

 expected grating of the keel of a boat upon hidden 

 rocks, and some similar sound comes to the ears, or 

 along the nerves of the limpet. Grind, grind, grind, 

 comes the new sound — we might liken it to an 

 endless filing or scraping of sandpaper. 



By virtue of our capacity as onlooker, we shift 

 attention from the intimate emotions of our limpet 

 to his environment. A great snail — the moon-snail 

 — with a rounded shell and a large amount of fleshy 

 foot has climbed upon the tent-roof and is busy with 

 some nefarious work. We perceive a whole kit of 

 tools — burglars' or executioners', or what you will. 

 A narrow band covered with thousands of minute 

 sharp teeth, like an ever-moving emery belt is rub- 

 bing swiftly back and forth upon a small section 

 of the limpet's shell. Soon a small round well is 

 bored through — the shell is perforated. Then a 

 most horridly ingenious tool comes into play, a liv- 



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