90 GLAUCUS; OR, 
things; at least, they get longer and longer and 
more jaw-breaking every year. The little bivalve, 
however, finding itself left by the tide, has wisely 
shut up its siphons, and, by means of its foot 
and its edges, buried itself in a comfortable bath 
of cool wet sand, till the sea shall come back, 
and make it safe to crawl and lounge about 
on the surface, smoking the sea-water instead of 
tobacco. Neither is that depression what we seek. 
Touch it, and out poke a pair of astonished and 
inquiring horns: it is a long-armed crab, who 
saw us coming, and wisely shovelled himself into 
the sand by means of his nether-end. Corystes 
Cassivelaunus is his name, which he is said to have 
acquired from the marks on his back, which are 
somewhat like a human face. “Those long an- 
tenne,” says my friend, Mr. Lloyd!—I have not 
verified the fact, but believe it, as he knows a 
great deal about crabs, and I know next to no- 
thing—“ form a tube through which a current of 
water passes into the crab’s gills, free from the 
1 Handbook to the Marine Aquarium of the Crystal Palace. 
