288 THE STORY OF WALTON. 



edible though the cook needs to be careful in dealing 

 with so dangerous a mollusc and by the fisher-folk for 

 bait. You may see the fisherman, and his wife and 

 bairns, all engaged in the early part of the day groping 

 among the weedy stones and rocks for the provision which 

 he must take with him when he sails his boat at night- 

 fall. Mussels are even purchased for bait, and the sup- 

 ply, not infrequently, is less than the demand. It is 

 surprising no one in our islands has yet taken to mussel- 

 culture, at any rate not on a large scale. They manage 

 these things better in France. In the Bay of Aiguillon 

 MII immense mytilicultural farm exists, and has existed 

 for nearly six centuries, though not, of course, on its 

 present scale. 



Strange to say, the mussel-farm we speak of was 

 established by the Irishman, Walton, to whom we have 

 already referred, under the following curious circum- 

 stances : 



In 1236 an Irish bark was wrecked in the Bay of 

 Aiguillon, a few miles from Rochelle. All the crew 

 appear to have perished, but the neighbouring fishermen 

 saved the life of the master, a man named Walton. 

 Those were days in which men had a hard struggle for 

 existence, and on the barren shore of the Aunis, Walton 

 was compelled to support himself as best he could. At 

 first, he lived principally upon the sea-fowl which, in 

 countless flocks, frequented the neighbouring marshes. 

 Growing dexterous through incessant practice, he in- , 

 vented a species of net, a " night-net," as he called it, 

 measuring, it is said, three or four hundred yards in 

 length by three yards in breadth. This immense stretch 

 of mesh-work he disposed horizontally, like a screen, along 



