“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!”