48 WEST COAST SHELLS 



know some people call us scallops, though we pre- 

 fer to be known by our true name, Pectens. And he 

 said, too, that lateh- the cooks leave out the shells 

 (tor which I am very thankful), but keep the name, 

 though somewhat shortened, and so they are called 

 'scalloped oysters,' even if they are baked in an 

 earthen dish. 



"I feel that I am growing old, and that in a little 

 time nothing but my shells will be left; so I have 

 been asking carefully about my ancestors and my 

 kindred, for I want to know who have gone before 

 me and who will be likely to follow me. 



"I hnd that my family is a very old one, and that 

 we have colonies all over the world. Our flesh has 

 always been esteemed a delicacy, and our shells have 

 been much admired by men. But, better than that, I 

 find that we and a very few of our near relatives are 

 the only bivalves in the ocean that have the power 

 to swim freely wherever they choose. 



"Some of my relatives have shells that are fully 

 six inches across, while others are tiny little things 

 no larger than a dime. But our oddest relative is the 

 rock-oyster, or winter shell, as some people call him. 

 Figure 23 shows you how he looks, and he may be 

 found all along the coast of California. 



"When his children are young they look like little 

 yellow-shelled pectens, and they swim about and 

 moor themselves as we do. But after a while they 

 grow weary of a wandering lite, and then they settle 

 down in an old abalone-shell or a hollow place in 

 some rock, and cement one oi their shells to the new 

 support. 



