351 
THE COTTAGE GAEDENEE AND COUNTEY GENTLEMAN, August 31, 1858. 
When the return of the tide puts a stop to gathering, is 
the time to think of packing-up. Sort over your jars, and 
arrange your stock, as far as you can, in classes. Molluscs will 
carry best in water, if they are to go any distance; but, if the 
transit is to be soon over, they may be packed in wet sea¬ 
weed in the basket. Crabs may be packed in the same way, 
except hermits; they must go in fresh-dipped sea-water, 
and as few together as possible, for fear they should get up a 
fight. If you should have had the good luck to meet with a 
hermit, with a parasitic Anemone on the shell, give him ajar 
to himself, with a tuft of Algse. In turning out the Actinia:, 
those that have attached themselves inside the jars must not 
be disturbed. Let them remain there till you get home, when 
you can either detach them, or break the jar, and place the 
fragment on which the creature is fixed in the tank, so as to 
do away with any necessity for handling it. In this way the 
gatherings may remain for forty-eight hours without danger, 
but it is not advisable to keep them so confined any longer 
than is absolutely necessary. In the final arrangements for 
carriage, see that the blocks of stone are so arranged that they 
cannot jostle about, and that they do not press on any of the 
creatures. There should be a tuft of waste Algse between 
every lot of animals; before leaving the shore the basket 
should be dipped into sea-water, to drench it through, or at 
least well sprinkled, to preserve a thorough moisture. 
One more hint occurs to me. Avoid any spot on the coast 
where land springs abound; as in the vicinity of a stream of 
fresh water but little will be found. But, if you are more en¬ 
thusiastic than delicate, take care to hunt any dark hollow 
where the water is foul, and you are pretty sure to find some¬ 
thing worthy the search. The finest lot of Antliea cereus I 
ever met with, was in the outlet of a town sewer, where, in the 
midst of a mass of black sludge, the Antheas were expanded 
like a cluster of blue rosettes. No wonder it may be kept 
in beer and soapsuds, and even in urine.— Shirley Hibberi). 
THE FIVE PEAS. 
There were five Peas in a peasliell; they were green, and 
the shell was green, and therefore they fancied that the 
whole world was green—and they had a right to do so. 
The shell increased in size, and so did the Peas. They 
made very good domestic arrangements, placing themselves 
in a neat row. The sun sent its warm rays on the pod, and 
the rain kept it fresh ; they were sheltered and comfortable— 
had light by day, and darkness by night, as it should be ; and 
the Peas became larger and always more thoughtful, as they 
sat idle there, for as yet they had no companion. 
“Shall we always be kept sitting here?” said they: “we 
shall become quite hardened staying here so long. We 
cannot help fancying that there must be something going 
on outside.” 
But weeks passed on; the Peas became yellow, and the 
pod became yellow: “ The whole world is turning yellow,” 
said they—and they had a right to think so. 
At length, they felt a pulling at the pod; it was broken off, 
and fell into a human hand, and from thence into the pocket 
of a jacket, along with several other full peashells. “We 
will soon be opened,” said they—and they waited expecting 
it. “ Would that I could foresee which of us will ramble the 
furthest,” said the smallest Pea—“ the shell will soon give 
way.” 
“ All must happen as it is ordained!” said the largest. 
Crack went the pod, and all five of the Peas rolled out into 
the clear sunshine; they lay in a child’s hand; a little boy 
looked at them, and remarked that they were nice Peas for 
his popgun; and one of them was forthwith consigned to 
the gun, and shot away. 
“Now I fly away, out into the wide world; catch me if 
you can!” and it was off. 
“I,” said another, “shall fly straight to the sun; it is a 
superb peashell, and will be very comfortable for me.” Off 
he went. 
“I shall sleep wherever I alight,” said two of the others, 
but we shall roll far enough ;” and they first rolled on the 
floor, and then were also fired from the gun. 
“ All must happen as it is ordained ! ” exclaimed the last, 
as it too was shot away. It flew up on an old board, under a 
garret window, and alighted in a hole in the wood, where 
there was some moss and soft earth; the moss covered 
it up, and there it lay hidden, but not forgotten by its great 
Maker. 
“ All must happen as it is ordained!” it exclaimed. 
In the little garret room dwelt a poor woman, who went 
out during the day to clean stoves, to chop firewood, or do 
any other manual work ; for though she was clever, and 
capable of doing many better things, she was extremely 
poor; and at home in her little chamber, lay her daughter, 
a half-grown girl, so slender and delicate, for a whole year 
she had been confined to bed, hovering between life and 
death. 
“ She is going to her little sister,” said the woman. “ I 
had these two children; it was hard work for me to support 
them both, but it pleased our Lord to take one of them from 
me ; would that I might be permitted to keep the other, who 
is still with me ! but God does not see fit to separate them, 
and she is fast going to her little sister.” 
The sick girl, however, lived on ; she lay patiently and 
still the whole day, while her mother was out trying to earn 
something. 
It was spring, and early one morning, just as the mother 
was going out to her day’s labour, the sun shone brightly 
through the little window down upon the floor, and sparkled 
upon the panes of glass. 
“ What little green thing is that peeping up behind the 
window, and waving in the wind?” said the young invalid; 
and her mother went to the window and opened it a little. 
“ Why, it is a tiny plant,” said she, “ that has shot up with 
small green leaves. How could it have got into this crevice, 
I wonder ? It will be a little garden for you to look at.” 
So the little sick girl’s bed was moved nearer to the win¬ 
dow, where she could see the little sprouting plant, and the 
mother went away to her work. 
“Mother, I think I am getting better,” said the little girl, 
one afternoon. “The sunshine has been so warm to-day, 
the little plant thrives nicely, and I think I shall thrive too, 
and be able to get up and go out into the bright sunshine.” 
“Would to God you could!” exclaimed the mother; but 
she feared that never would be. She put a little stick close 
by the green sprout, which had inspired her daughter with 
the pleasant thoughts of returning health, that twining 
round it, it might not be snapped by the wind; she fastened 
a bit of pack thread to the board, and tied the other end to 
a little projection above the upper framework of the window, 
that the tendrils of the young plant might have something to 
cling to, and creep up as they grew longer; and every day 
they were observed to have run up higher and higher. 
“It is actually beginning to flower!” said the woman one 
morning; and now also she began to entertain the hope and 
believe that her poor sick girl would recover. She had re¬ 
marked that latterly the child had been more lively, that for 
the last few mornings she had raised herself without as¬ 
sistance in her bed, and sat up, looking at her little garden 
of one plant. The following week, the girl was able to leave 
her bed for an hour or two. She sat cheerfully in the warm 
sunshine, near the open window, on the outside of which 
bloomed a lovely pea-flower. The little girl stooped her head 
and softly kissed the delicate blossom. That day was like a 
festival in the humble garret room. 
“ A kind Providence has planted this sweet flower up here, 
and permitted it to thrive, in order to convey hope and glad¬ 
ness to you, my beloved child—and to me !” said the happy 
mother, smiling gratefully on the flower, as if it had been an 
angel messenger from Heaven. 
But what became of the other Peas—those others which 
were scattered abroad in the wide world? '•''Catch me if you 
can';' fell into the spout on a roof, and came next into a 
pigeon’s craw, where it lay like Jonah in the belly of the 
whale. The two lazy ones landed in the same sort of place, 
and were eaten by pigeons, and certainly that was becoming 
solidly useful; but the fourth, who aspired to reach the sun, 
fell into the nasty gutter, and lay days and weeks in the stag¬ 
nant water, until it became quite swelled. 
“I am becoming enormously stout?” said the Pea; ”1 
shall burst at this rate. I am sure no Pea ever was so 
large, and that none can equal me in size. I am the most 
remarkable, doubtless, of the five from the old pod.” 
And the gutters agreed with it. 
But the young girl stood at the window with sparkling 
