THE STORY OF A STONE. 22$ 



things, and opened and shut its umbrella pretty 

 much as the jelly-fishes do now on a sunny day ofif 

 Nahant Beach when the tide is coming in. It had a 

 great many little feelers that hung down all around 

 like so many little snakes ; so it was named Me- 

 dusa, after a queer woman who lived a long while 

 ago, when all sorts of stories were true. She 

 wore snakes instead of hair, and used to turn peo- 

 ple into stone images if they dared to make faces 

 at her. So this little Medusa floated around, and 

 opened and shut her umbrella for a good while, 

 a month or two, perhaps, we don't know how long. 

 Then one morning, down among the sea-weeds, she 

 laid a whole lot of tiny eggs, transparent as crab- 

 apple jelly, and smaller than the dew-drop on the 

 end of a pine leaf. That was the last thing she 

 did ; so .she died, and our story henceforth concerns 

 only one of those little eggs. 



One day the sun shone down into the water, 

 the same sun that shines over the Oconto saw-mills 

 now, and touched these eggs with life ; and a lit- 

 tle fellow whom we will call Favosites, because that 

 was his name, woke up inside of the egg, and came 

 out into the world. He was only a little piece of 

 floating jelly, shaped like a cartridge pointed at 

 both ends, or like a grain of barley, although very 

 much smaller. He had a great number of little 

 paddles on his sides. These kept flapping all the 

 time, so that he was constantly in motion. And 

 at night all these little paddles shone with a rich 

 green light, to show him the way through the 

 water. It would have done you good to see them 

 some night when all the little fellows had their 



