59 



" Weet ! Weet ! " cried the sandpipers, and they 

 hfted their legs and flew away. 



A broad-wheeled carriage was driving along over 

 the hard, wet sand close to the edge of the waves. 



"This is Pebbly Beach," said the driver. 

 " Plenty of shells here, Professor." 



" Oh, papa, mayn't I get out and gather some ? " 

 cried a little girl who was on the front seat. 



"Yes ; ril get out too," said the Professor. " I 

 feel quite cramped with driving." 



He climbed out and then lifted the child down 

 on the sand. 



" Oh, look at the shells! " she cried. " Heaps of 

 them. Oh, where's my biicket ? And just look at 

 these in the pool. Aren't they beauties ? " She 

 took one out of the water, but a moment after she 

 threw it from her with a cry. " Ugh ! There's a 

 horrid bug in it." 



Her father laughed as he lifted the shell and 

 looked at it. " It's nothing but a little hermit 

 crab," he said. " You've frightened him more than 

 he frightened you. That shell is his little house." 



He picked up one shell after another from the 

 pool and in each one was a frightened crab. 



" Never mind, my dear. You have plenty of 



