in the body of the creature. This liquid hardens in the water so that it
can be pulled out into long, fine threads.

Our ordinary Mussels do not make very long threads, but those of some
kinds are so long that they can be woven into silky purses or stockings.
The Mussel which makes such long anchor-threads might be called "the
silkworm of the sea."

If the Mussel is such a stay-at-home, how does he find his food? The
answer is, that the food comes to him, brought by the ever-moving water.
There are countless specks floating in the sea, mostly specks of
vegetable stuff. These settle on the floor of the sea, just as dust
settles on our house-floors; and the waves wash this "sea-dust" hither
and thither. The Mussel or Oyster, with shells gaping wide open, is
bound to get some of this food with the water which enters the shells.

The Oyster has no "foot," and is fixed in one place nearly all its life.
It is an interesting animal; and one of such value as food, that
hundreds of thousands of Oysters are reared in special "beds," and sent
to the market at the proper season. Our British Oysters were famous even
in the time of the Romans; they were carefully packed and sent to Rome,
and, at the Roman feasts, surprising quantities of them were eaten.

Many sea-animals have wonderfully large families, but the Oyster, with
its millions and millions of eggs, beats most of them. Strangely enough,
its eggs are not sent into the sea at once, but are kept between the
Oyster's shells until they hatch. Needless to say, these babies are very
small indeed, else their nursery could not contain them all Though so
small that thousands of them together look more like a pinch of dust
than anything else, yet each one has two thin shells; so that, if you
eat the parent Oyster, they grate on your teeth like sand. Oysters, at
this time, are "out of season"--that is, unfit for food.

At the right moment, the Oyster gets rid of its numerous family. It
opens its shells, then shuts them rapidly; and, each time this happens,
a cloud of young Oysters is puffed out like smoke. Now these mites must
fend for themselves in a sea full of foes.

They have no defence, and countless numbers of them are gobbled up by
crabs, anemones, and others. If this did not happen, the sea would soon
be paved with Oysters.

For a time, the baby Oysters--which are known as "spat"--are able to
swim here and there. In rough weather they are driven far into the deeps
of t