He could not listen long, but tripped back over the rocks to the beach, treading softly over the leaves of the large brown sea-weeds, whilst their air-bladders crackled cheerily under his feet; and on his way in crossing a channel of sand, drifted up among the low rocks, he came across a little crab, whose shy spasmodic movements so amused him that he sat down on a large stone and laughed till the rocks rang again.
All the creatures always looked very grave and puzzled when the Child laughed, and the small crab did not seem at all to like it, keeping his large projecting eyes fixed on him, and trying to hide himself, as he went, under the brown leaves, but still glaring from his retreat with an expression of wounded dignity.
At length the Child recovered his speech and said, "Are you in difficulties? Can I help you?"
The crab crept out of his hiding-place on being thus courteously addressed, and planting his two fore legs round a pebble, looked up at the Child, and opened his lips so wide that all his body seemed a mouth. Then clearing his voice gravely, he said, "There is no living in the sea in these times: the winds and waves are so inconsiderate and violent, I don't know what will be the end of it. Yesterday morning I had found a most convenient apartment, well plastered and furnished, so as to suit me to perfection. I had spent hours in hunting for such an eligible lodging, and congratulated myself on being at length settled for life: when in an instant a large wave broke over me and dashed my house to pieces on the shore. I hardly escaped with my life, and my nerves are so shaken that I can scarcely think calmly—a most harassing position for a crab of my standing."
"But," said the Child, "what do you mean by finding your house?—most of my friends here build their own."
"That is not my profession," said the crab rather conceitedly; "none of our family were brought up to anything of the kind. Of course it is necessary that some people should be masons and carpenters, but we have all our work done for us."
"What do you do then?" asked the Child.
The crab looked a little embarrassed, but he was too well bred for this to last, so he replied rather evasively, "We eat, and drink, and observe the world; we travel, and occasionally fight, and criticise what other people do. I assure you it is no idle life: so few people understand their own business."
The Child did not altogether like the tone of the crab's conversation, and he replied rather warmly,—
"I don't know what you mean. All my friends, the cockles, the whelks, and the limpets, do their work a great deal better than I could; and I love to watch them."