"Oh, dear! Oh, dear!" cried Bob presently, stopping on their way
homewards at a nice-looking pastry-cook's shop hard by the dockyard-
gates, whose wide green windows framed an appetising display of cakes
and buns which appealed strangely to his gastronomic feelings; while a
fragrant odour, as of hot mutton-pies, the speciality of the
establishment, a renowned one in its way amongst middies and such like
small fry who frequented the neighbourhood, oozed out from its
hospitably-open door, perfuming lusciously the air around--"I am _so_
hungry!"
"By Jove, my boy, so am I, too, now I think of it," said the Captain,
likewise coming to a halt and proceeding to enter the shop, followed by
his eager companions. "Let us pipe down to lunch at once. This is a
famous place for pies; and you may rely on having mutton in 'em and not
puppies!"
The old Captain `stood treat,' of course, and the boys had such a
glorious `tuck out' that they were behind time when they got back to
Mrs Gilmour's house on the south parade.
"Aunt Polly" and Nellie were both ready and waiting for them outside,
dressed in walking attire; while Rover was frisking round the ladies,
though he darted up to his young master the moment he caught sight of
him, forgetting, with all a good dog's magnanimity, the ill-treatment he
had received in not being allowed to accompany him to the dockyard.
"Sure, you're very late, Captain dear," began Mrs Gilmour when the old
sailor came near, with Dick following in his wake; but, suddenly
noticing the latter's wonderful transformation of appearance, she
stopped her laughing reproaches anent the Captain's dilatoriness,
exclaiming in admiring tones--"My good gracious! Dear me! Who is this
young gentleman?"
Bob was in ecstasies.
"We were sure you wouldn't know him, auntie!" he cried, as little Miss
Nellie joined him in a gleesome dance of triumph round the blushing,
new-fledged Dick, and Rover gambolled behind the pair, barking loudly,
in sympathetic accord. "We were sure you wouldn't know him!"
"Sure, you're right, me dears, I wouldn't really have recognised him for
the same boy at all, at all!" cheerfully agreed Mrs Gilmour, as she
turned towards the ex-runaway and scrutinising his altered guise in
detail, critically but kindly. "Are ye, really, Dick, now?"
"Yes, mum, I bees the same b'y, surely," replied Dick, with a broad grin
that spread over his face from ear to ear. "It's the Cap'en, God bless
him, mum, as made me for to look so foine that my own mother wouldn't
know me, leastways nobody else--thanks be to the Cap'en, mum."
"Pooh, pooh, there's nothing to make a fuss about," interposed the old
sailor, anxious to let these personalities be dropped, being very shy of
any of his good actions being noticed. "The boy's all right. He has
only changed his rig, that's all, the same as you put on a new dress on
going out walking, ma'am."
"That's a nice thing to say of an economical person like me, sir!" said
Mrs Gilmour, shaking her parasol at him in jocular anger. "One would
think I was one of those fine ladies who have a new dress every day in
the week, and milliners' bills as long as your old malacca cane."
"Well, well, I apologise, ma'am, for I know better than that, as you are
far too sensible a woman to spend all your money on finery," said the
Captain, with a low bow. "But where are we going to now, for I see you
are dressed for walking?"
"Down to the sea, of course," she replied. "Nell and I went up to
Landport this morning, while you and Bob were `transmogrifying' that
boy, as my old father used to say. We paid a visit to the old lady
whose eggs were broken yesterday by Master Rover's gambols. You may
remember, Captain, I promised her some from my own fowls in place of
those she lost. Don't you recollect how anxious the poor creature was
about them?"
"Yes, yes, I remember," said the old sailor, his face beaming with good-
humour. "You're always kind and thoughtful."
"Whish!" cried Mrs Gilmour playfully. "None of your blarney!"
"Oh, Bob!" exclaimed Nellie, interposing at this juncture, while they
still all stood talking together in front of the house, neither Mrs
Gilmour nor the `old commodore' having yet given the signal for sailing,
"she has got such a dear little place of her own."
"Who's `she'--the cat's mother, Nell?"
Nellie laughed.
"I mean the old lady who had the broken eggs."
"Aye," put in the Captain, "and who nearly had broken legs likewise!"
This made Nellie laugh again.
"Oh, you know who I mean very well, Bob," said she, when she had ceased
to giggle. "She has got the dearest little cottage, you ever saw. It
is fitted up just like the cabin of a ship inside; her husband, who was
a ship's carpenter, having done it all. Why, the walls are covered with
Chinese pictures and shells and curios which he picked up in all sorts
of outlandish places, bringing them home after his various voyages. Oh,
Bob, you never saw such funny things."
"Didn't the woman say something of having an invalid daughter?" inquired
the Captain. "I think I heard her speak of one yesterday at the
station."
"Yes, poor thing," said Mrs Gilmour. "She's got spinal complaint, and
we saw her lying on the sofa in the queer little parlour crammed with
curiosities that Nell took such a fancy to. She seems a very nice girl,
so happy and contented although in such a helpless state! Her old
mother, whom I know you thought fussy and selfish, is quite devoted to
her."
"Humph!" ejaculated the Captain, taking no notice of Mrs Gilmour's
allusions to his original impression of the stout personage with whom
Rover had, so to speak, entangled them into an acquaintance. "Perhaps
some of that old port wine of mine would do the girl good, eh, ma'am?"
"Not a doubt of it, she looks so pale and delicate," replied Mrs
Gilmour. "But there will be plenty of time to think about that to-
morrow. Let us go on now to the beach, or it will be too late for us to
do so before dinner."
"Come on then, I'm yours obediently," said the Captain with his usual
chirpy chuckle. "By Jove, though, I think I've had pretty nearly
walking enough for one day for an old fellow turned sixty."
This time they steered clear of the castle, the exciting memories of the
previous evening being too vivid in Mrs Gilmour's mind to allow the
boys to go near the treacherous footing of the rampart again.
Instead of going thither, they turned their footsteps rather to the
eastern portion of the shore; where a shelving, shingly beach sloped
gradually down to the water, and thus no danger to be feared of Master
Bob or any one else plunging in suddenly without warning, as happened
unfortunately before.
Here, everything was new to the young people; the wet pebbles glistening
like jewels after a last polish from the receding tide; the masses of
many-hued seaweed; the quaint shells; and the rippling waves, laughing
in the sunshine, and sportively throwing up in their joyous play little
balls of foam or spindrift, which the buoyant south-westerly breeze,
equally inclined for fun and frolic, tossed about here and there high in
the air, until they were lost to sight in the distance beyond the
esplanade.
One or two silver-grey gulls, with white waistcoats on, as if going to
some nautical dinner-party, were hovering above and occasionally making
dashes down in their swooping curvilinear flight to pick up stray tit-
bits from the tideway, to assuage their hunger until the grander repast
to which they were invited was ready; while a whole colony of their
kindred, the black, brown, and dusky-coloured gulls, not so fortunate in
being asked out to the festive banquet, were anon floating about in
groups on the water close inshore, anon suddenly taking wing and flying
off, only to settle down again on the surface further out.
Even more impressive, however, than all these evidences of moving life
around, there was the sea, that touched their feet almost, and yet
stretched out in its illimitable expanse away and away--to where?
It was Nellie to whom these thoughts occurred; as for Bob, he was
engaged in chasing little green crabs as they scuttled over the shingle,
busily collecting as many as he could get hold of in a little pond he
had scooped in the sand.
This pond would now be filled as some venturesome wavelet broke over its
brink; and then be drained as the tide fell back, leaving the poor
little crabs left high and dry ashore to repeat their scrambling
attempts at escape, only to tumble over on top of each other as they
tried to climb the precipitous sides of Bob's reservoir.
"Isn't it jolly!" cried that young gentleman, looking up at the Captain,
who, leaning on his stick, stood near, watching his futile endeavours to
restrain the vivacious, side-walking, unwieldy little animals that
seemed gifted with such indomitable energy, and equal perseverance to
that of Bruce's spider. "Isn't it jolly, sir?"
"Not very jolly for the crabs, though," observed the old sailor smiling.
"I don't think they would say so if you asked them the question!"
"I'm not hurting them," said Bob in excuse. "I only want to see them
closely."
"I suppose you think they are all alike and belong to the same species,
eh?" asked the Captain. "Don't you?"
"Well, I don't see much difference in them," replied Bob hesitatingly.
"Do you, Captain Dresser?"
"Humph! yes. I can see in that little pond of yours, now under my eyes,
no less than three distinct varieties of the crab family."
"Never!" exclaimed Bob incredulously. "Why, they all look to me the
same queer little green-backed things, with legs all over them that they
do not know how to use properly."
"While you think, no doubt, that you could teach them better, eh?" said
the Captain chuckling; but, the next moment, raising his hat and a
graver expression stealing over his face as he looked upward towards the
blue vault overhead, he added earnestly--"Ah, my boy, remember they have
a wiser teacher than you or I! However, you're wrong about their being
all similar. The majority of those you've caught are certainly of the
ordinary species of green crab and uneatable, if even they had been of
any tolerable size; but, that little fellow there is a young `velvet
fiddler' or `swimming crab.' If you notice, his hind legs are
flattened, so as to serve him for oars, with which he can propel himself
at a very good rate through the water if you give him a chance. Look
now!"
"I see," cried Bob eagerly. "He's quite different to this other chap
here with the long legs."
"Oh that is a `spider crab.' He is of very similar proclivities to his
cousin though he lives ashore. The cunning fellow uses his sprawling
long limbs in lieu of a web, and will lie in wait in some hole between
the rocks, artfully poking his claws out to catch unwary animals--often
those of his own or kindred species--as they pass by his den."
"What is this queer little chap?" asked Nellie, pointing to another,
which was partly concealed in an old whelk-shell. "He seems to want to
get out and can't."
"Why, my dear, that is the `hermit crab.' He does not want, though, to
leave that comfortable lodging he has secured for himself, as you think.
He's an `old soldier,' and knows when he's well off! He belongs to
what is called the `soft-tailed' family, and being defenceless astern he
has to seek an artificial protection against his enemies, in place of
natural armour."
"How funny!" said Nellie, watching the little animal more closely.
"What a queer fellow!"
"Yes," continued the Captain, "and, that is the reason why he goes
prowling about for empty shells. Often, too, really he's such a
pugnacious fellow, he will turn the rightful tenant out, taking forcible
possession. Just look at his tail and see how it is provided with a
pair of pincers at the end. He is enabled by this means to hold on
firmly to any shell, no matter how badly it may fit him, which he
chooses for his temporary habitation."
As he spoke, the Captain extracted with some little difficulty the
buccaneer crab from the whelk-shell, showing its peculiar formation,
quite unlike that of the others. A young shrimp who had lost his
latitude was also found in Bob's pond, and the discovery led the old
sailor to speak of these animals that form such a pleasant relish to
bread-and-butter; and he told them that one of the best fishing-grounds
for them was off the Woolsner Shoal, some four miles further along the
beach to the eastwards, while another good place was Selsea Bill, more
eastward still.
While the Captain was giving this little lecture about the crabs and
their congeners, Rover was prancing around and barking for some one to
pitch in a stick or something for him to fetch out of the sea.
Presently, in bringing back a piece of wood which Bob had thrown into
the water, Rover dragged ashore a mass of seaweed, a portion of which
was shaped somewhat like a lettuce and coloured a greenish purple.
The Captain pounced on this at once.
"Hullo!" he exclaimed--"why, it is laver."
"Isn't that good to eat?" asked Mrs Gilmour. "I fancy I've heard
people speak of it in London, or somewhere."
"I should rather think it was!" he replied. "It is, too, one of the
best sorts, the purple laver, a variety of some value, I believe, in the
London market."
"I can't say I should like to eat it," said Nellie, squeezing up her
nose like a rabbit and making a wry face. "It looks too nasty!"
"Wouldn't you?" retorted the Captain. "I can tell you, missy, it is
very good when well boiled, with the addition of a little lemon-juice.
It tastes then better than spinach."
"Do all these sorts of seaweed grow in the sea, Captain Dresser?" asked
Bob. "I mean in the same way as plants do in a garden?"
"No, my boy," replied the other. "They attach themselves to the rocks
at the bottom of the sea, not to draw their sustenance from them in the
same way as plants ashore derive their nourishment from the earth
through their roots; but, simply to anchor themselves in a secure haven
out of reach of the waves, getting all their nutriment from the water,
which is the atmosphere of the sea in the same way as air is that of the
land. Of course, some of these weeds of the ocean drift from their
moorings, like that bladder wrack there with the berries."
"Don't they pop jolly!" observed Master Bob, popping away as he
delivered himself of this opinion. "Pop! There goes one!"
"You are not the only boy who has found that out, or girl either," said
the Captain with a smile to Nellie, who was industriously following her
brother's example. "But, look here, children, I can now see something
stranger than anything we've noticed yet."
"What?" exclaimed Bob and Nellie together, stooping down to where the
Captain was poking about with the end of his malacca cane in the sandy
shingle. "What is it, sir?"
"A pholas," he answered. "It is one of the most curious burrowing
animals known, and has been a puzzle to naturalists for years, until
Gosse discovered its secret, as to how it succeeded with its soft and
tender shell in penetrating into the hardest rocks, within whose
substance it is frequently found completely buried, so that, like the
`Fly in Amber,' one wonders how it ever got there!"
"What did you say it was?" asked Mrs Gilmour. "A `fowl,' sure? Faith
it's a quare-looken' bird, Cap'en dear!"
The Captain smiled, but he was not to be tempted away from his hobby.
"The pholas, I said, ma'am," he replied. "The `pholas dactylus,' as
scientific people call it, which, until Gosse, as I said, discovered its
mode of action, was quite a puzzle to every one; although, now that the
mystery is out, all wonder it was not cleared up before! If you look at
the head of the shell, you'll see it is provided with a regular series
of little pointed spines at the end of the upper portion. These spines
are of a much harder material than the main part of the shell, and are
fixed into it, as you could notice better with a microscope, just in the
same way as the steel points for the notes of any air are attached to
the barrel of a common musical-box, projecting like so many teeth."
"Yes, I can see them," observed Bob, who was listening attentively.
"Look, Nell!"
"Well, then," the Captain went on, "besides this toothed head of his,
the animal is provided with a sucker at his mouth, by which he can hold
on to any wooden pile or stonework he may wish to perforate so as to
make his nest inside; and, gripping this firmly with his sucker and
working the head of his shell slowly backwards and forwards with a sort
of circular rocking motion, he gradually bores his way into the object
of his affections, getting rid of the refuse he excavates by the aid of
a natural siphon that runs through his body, and by means of which he
blows all his waste borings away--curious, isn't it?"
"Very," said Mrs Gilmour; while the children, equally interested,
wanted to learn not only all the Captain could tell them of this
peculiar little animal, but also everything he knew of the other wonders
of the shore. "Sure I wish I knew all you do, Captain!"
But, if the Captain was learned and good-natured, the children taxed his
patience, Miss Nellie especially.
She had not lost any time in setting about making that collection of
shells which she had mentioned to him in confidence when coming down in
the train it was her intention to begin as soon as she got to the sea;
and, all the time he had been speaking of the little crabs and other
things, she had been busily gathering together all sorts of razor
shells, pieces of cuttle-fish bone, cast-off lobsters' claws, and bits
of seaweed, which she now proudly drew his attention to, expecting the
old sailor's admiration.
He was, on the contrary, however, extremely ungallant.
"All rubbish!" he exclaimed on her asking him if he did not think her
pile of curiosities nice. "But, those corallines, young lady, are good.
They were long supposed to belong to the animal world, like the
zoophytes; instead of which they are plants the same as any other
seaweed. When that little branch you have there is dry, if you put the
end of it to a lighted candle, it will burn with an intense white flame,
similar to the lime-light, or that produced by electricity."
"We'll try it to-night!" said Bob emphatically. "We'll try it to-
night!"
"But, the Captain says it must be quite dry," interposed his sister,
somewhat appeased by the praise bestowed on her corallines for the
wholesale condemnation her collection had received. "Isn't that so,
Captain?"
"Right you are, my deary," said he. "They would not burn unless they're
just like tinder."
Dick, who had meanwhile been listening to all that was being said,
without intruding on the conversation, busying himself in picking up
shells for Miss Nell, and, occasionally, diverting Rover's attention by
throwing a stick for him into the sea, happened to come across, just at
this juncture, a queer-looking dark-coloured object that resembled an
india-rubber tobacco-pouch more than anything else.
"What be this, sir?" said he, holding up the article for inspection.
"Be he good for aught, sir?"
"Why, it's only a piece of seaweed, of course!" declared Master Bob,
settling the question in his own way. "Any one can see that."
"You're wrong," said the Captain. "You're quite wrong, Master Sharp!"
"It's a fairy's pillow-case," cried Nellie. "Isn't it?"
"Your guess is the nearer of the two, missy," decided Captain Dresser,
thumping his malacca cane down to give greater effect to his words.
"Strange to say, you've almost hit upon the very name; for, the fisher-
folk hereabouts and down the coast call the things `mermaids' purses.'
They once contained the egg of some young skate or shark, who, when he
was old enough, hatched himself, leaving his shell behind; and this
being elastic, like gutta-percha, closed up again, so that it cannot be
told how he got out."
"Dear me!" exclaimed Mrs Gilmour. "I've often wondered what those
things were, and never knew before."
"It's never too late, ma'am, to learn," said the Captain. "I myself
only took up natural history, gathering the little knowledge I possess,
after I was put on half-pay. Indeed, it was all owing to poor Ted, your
husband and my old shipmate, that I ever thought of reading at all. He
said it would be something for me to fall back upon for occupation when
the Admiralty shoved me on the shelf; and, by Jove, he was right!"
"Poor Ted!" sighed Mrs Gilmour somewhat sadly. "Poor old Ted!"
"Not `poor,' ma'am," said the Captain reverently, taking off his hat and
looking upwards as he had done before when calling the children's
attention to Him who taught the insects. "He's `rich' Ted, now; and
better off in his snug moorings aloft than you and I here below!"
"Yes, I know that, but it is hard to be content," replied the other,
appearing lost in thought for some moments; until presently, recovering
herself, she looked at her watch, when, seeing what time it was, she
said they must start back for home at once. "Come along, children,
time's up!"
"O-o-o-oh!" exclaimed Bob and Nellie in great consternation. "Why,
we've only just come!"
"O-o-o-oh!" mimicked their aunt, amused at their woebegone faces. "Do
you know that we've been down here nearly four hours! If we stop much
longer, you'll be `oh-ing' for your dinner, when it will be too late to
get any, and how would you like that?"
"Humph! I thought I was feeling a bit peckish," said the Captain,
wheeling about and preparing to head the return procession home,
accepting Mrs Gilmour's remarks as a command. "Come on, children,
we've got our sailing directions; so let us up anchor at once, for
you'll have plenty of the beach before you see the last of it. I tell
you what, though, I'll do for you if you are good."
"What, Captain?" cried Bob and Nellie, hanging on to his coat-tails as
he stumped over the shingle by the side of their aunt, the faces of all
now set homeward. "What?"
"Ah, you must wait till to-morrow!" was all that they could get out of
him, however, in spite of their wheedlings and coaxings as they crossed
the Common, with Dick and Rover following behind; the latter being too
hungry even to bark, and only able to give a faint wag of his tail now
and then when especially addressed by name. "Wait till to-morrow!"