As Sammy gazed the crab slowly crept out from the mud, still keeping a watchful eye on the intruder.
“Fine day,” said Sammy, pleasantly.
“Charming,” replied the Crab.
“Water’s a little cool, though,” said Sammy.
“It’s very comfortable in here,” said the Crab, “and the tide is very favorable this morning; it brought me in some fine fat snails for breakfast. By the way, have you had breakfast?” And as he spoke he again retreated into the mud.
“Oh, yes, indeed!” replied Sammy, politely, “I had a good meal some time ago before the shark got after me.” And, forthwith, he gave a thrilling account of his adventure, adding something to it after the manner of storytellers, and throwing in a description of his past life and present ambition. To all of which the Crab listened with most flattering interest.
“Remarkable,” he murmured. “You have no idea how delightful it is for a poor Hermit like me to hear something of the outside world. I lead such a retired life that it is a real pleasure to entertain a stranger in my humble abode. This little cave is mine by the right of possession, and in it I live, far from the whirl of society, and being secluded in my habits, and somewhat bashful, I always retire into the mud when strangers appear. Occasionally when crabs, (little ones), sea-snails, and small shell-fish wander in in search of apartments I consent to have a short conference with them, but it is a rare thing for me to speak to a fish as large as yourself.”
“I am highly honored,” said our hero.
“But tell me, how do you happen to have that large shell on your back?”
“That,” replied the Crab, proudly, “is the former home of a Sea-Snail, now alas! no more. You see my name of the Hermit-Crab comes from my liking to conceal my tail, which is long and soft, with two or three hooks on it, in the empty shell of some sea animal, snail, or the like. Unlike the ordinary crabs, our branch of the family all possess these tails. Our only hope of prolonging our existence is to protect this weak tail, so as soon as we are born we crawl into some empty shell, and holding on with the hooks, are thus fairly well protected from attacks in the rear. We can carry the shell about with us, and in time, as we grow bigger, it becomes necessary to find a larger one. The shell in which I now live once belonged to a big snail. It was just the right size for my needs, and, there being no other way out of the difficulty, I was compelled to eat him up in order to get possession of his home. It was a wrong act, the impulse of a moment, and I assure you that I have always deeply regretted the cruel deed,” and the Hermit paused to sigh deeply.