THE LOBSTER. 153 



fastened to its moorings by the shells of tlie six feet. 

 Any one passing that way would never dream it was for- 

 saken by its owner—the " mill-wheel gone to decay, 

 Ben Bolt." 



Now let us look after the houseless one. At first 

 the shock of finding himself alone on the bare sand, 

 with no roof over his head, is too much for his fail- 

 ing strength to bear, and he staggers about like one 

 in delirium. His poor naked feet cannot support his 

 weight, and his long, slender feelers are blown about 

 in the wind like fine cobwebs ; but he has plenty of 

 pluck, and in a few moments he rouses himself to his 

 condition. He does not regret his " leap in the dark," 

 nor sit down on the sands and whine over his naked- 

 ness, but, like Mr. Dombey's sister, he " makes an effort," 

 and soon feels himself growing larger and stronger. So 

 he spreads out his paddles and fins, and jumps about 

 till he finds a sheltered spot in the rocks, where he can 

 safely settle down and wait for his big new house. You 

 have probably thought of the likeness between the shell 

 of the lobster and that of the mussel. You know the 

 mussel's shell is a hardened or calcified layer of his skin, 

 or mantle. The lobster's shell is formed in the same 

 way, only he seems to have a quicker plan of hardening 

 it, and the lining is different ; it is so very red, at first 

 sight you might think it blood ; but it is the coloring- 



