etimes the same crab is soft-shelled, and again it is hard-shelled.
An egg can't be that way. Once it is boiled hard it never can be boiled
soft again."
"What makes soft crabs?" Rose wanted to know.
"A soft-shelled crab is a hard-shelled crab with its old, hard shell
off, and it is only soft while it is waiting for its new shell to harden
in the salty sea water," explained Cousin Tom. "You see a crab grows,
but its shell, or its house that it lives in, doesn't grow. So it has to
shed that, or wiggle out of it, to let a larger one grow in its place.
When it does that it is a soft-shelled crab for a time, and very good to
eat. But you can't catch soft-shelled crabs on a string and a chunk of
meat. You have to go along and scoop them out of the seaweed with a net.
But now we will fish for hard-shelled crabs."
Cousin Tom and Daddy Bunker had rowed the boat about a mile up the
inlet, and now the anchor was tossed over the side, to keep the craft
from drifting with the tide.
"Now each one of you take a string, and toss the meat-end of it over the
side," said Cousin Tom. "Keep hold of the stick-end, or tie that end to
the boat. If you lose that you can't pull in your crab. Each one of you
keep watch of his or her string. When you see it beginning to be
pulled, or when you feel a little tug or jerk on it, as if a fish were
nibbling, then pull up very slowly and carefully. And look as you pull.
Don't pull it all the way to the top, or the crab, if there is one on
it, will see you, let go, and swim away."
The six little Bunkers did as they were told. Of course Margy and Mun
Bun were too little to know how to catch crabs, but they each had a
line, and Mother Bunker said she would catch them for the small tots.
"Oh, I think I have one!" suddenly exclaimed Russ in a whisper. "Look at
my line move!"
"Yes, you may have a crab on there," returned Cousin Tom. "Pull up very
gently."
Russ did so, while his cousin reached forward with the long-handled net
ready to scoop it under the crab, if it should happen to be one.
Up and up Russ pulled his line. Every one was eagerly watching, for they
wanted to see the first crab caught. And then, as the chunk of meat on
Russ's string came near the top of the water, Rose, from the other end
of the boat, cried:
"Oh, it's only a piece of seaweed!"
And so it was! How disappointed Russ was! The bit of green seaweed,
catching on his line, had wiggled and tugged, as the tide swayed
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