SHORES OF THE CLYDE AND FIRTH. 
17 
The cleanly wee winkle is there, 
On the pasturage tender and young, 
Rasping his vegetarian food 
With the sweep of his silicate tongue. 
But go for yourselves now and see 
The wonders of thousand tribes more. 
And ask was't for naught such work was made 
On the crawling things of the shore. 
OUR present purpose, however, is not the study of the 
finny tribes ; let us then turn shoreward and en- 
deavour to pry into the modes and habits of life of the 
various tribes of little creatures that inhabit our sea shores. 
Walking along the beach on a beautiful summer evening, 
had we ears sharp enough to detect the sounds emitted by 
the various forms of life dwelling there, it is just quite 
possible that our ears would tingle with the sounds of the 
sweetest of music ; and had w^e eyes capable of beholding 
the beauties that in reality do exist, we would be transported 
with the joy of beholding a world of exquisite wonders. 
But as they do present themselves to our view, few indeed 
stoop to recognise them other than the superfluous adjuncts 
of a useless creation, and even familiarity with the outward 
forms do not take away the stigma. 
Standing recently on one of the quays at Port-Glasgow, 
watching the mussel-fishers discharging a cargo of these 
bivalves newly arrived from the banks, I picked up an 
empty shell and began to examine it. One of the men 
engaged observed my action, and possibly misinterpreting 
the motive, with a twinkle of sly fun lurking in his eye, 
exclaimed, ^'Od, sir, is that an empty ane ye ha'e fan?" 
''It is indeed, sir," was my reply. ''Man, that's a wonder, 
isn't it?" he added with a pauky smutter. "Yes," I 
rejoined, "it is really a wonder; but I was wondering how 
