“I am only telling you what I have heard from others, though I have observed some of the facts myself,” answered Marshall. “See, now; what do you call that?” he added, holding up a very perfect Echinus.
“A sea-egg, of course,” answered Digby. “But I own that it has always puzzled me how any fish can manage to lay an egg covered with spines.”
“It is not an egg at all; it is much more properly called a sea-urchin or a sea-hedgehog. It is allied to the star-fish. By means of these spines it can move about with great ease; they serve also as its protection. The covering is most curious: it is composed of several hundred pentagonal plates. By a process going on continually from the inside, each one of these plates is enlarged by a fresh deposit; and thus, without altering their shape, the animal, as it grows, has its coat of armour growing also.”
“Well, Marshall, I must say that you spin wonderful yarns, as Toby Tubb would say, about all these things. I suppose that they are all true; but they do sometimes make me open my eyes.”
“Depend on it they are all true. Mr Nugent can tell still more wonderful ones,” answered Marshall. “The more we examine the productions of nature the more wonderful things we shall discover. There is no doubt, also, that—”
“I dare say not,” said Digby, yawning. “But do you know, Marshall, that, somehow or other, I would rather sometimes hear old Toby spin one of his yarns than listen to my uncle’s lectures on natural history. They are all very well in their way when one is in the humour for them, but, just now, I am rather inclined for a brisk walk; and, thinking of Toby, I say, I wish that we could get him to tell us how the ship he was on board of attacked I don’t know how many Frenchmen, or some other of our enemies, and took one of them in sight of their own port. He was telling Easton all about it one day. Perhaps he will not feel inclined to tell it again.”
Marshall laughed at the idea of an old sailor not liking to spin a yarn a second time, when the chances were in favour of his having already spun it many hundred times. He took the hint, also, about the lectures on natural history, and said nothing more to Digby on the subject. He well knew that if he was to attempt to cram it down his throat, Digby would be very likely to take a disgust to it, and obstinately set his face against all branches of natural history. He promised, moreover, to try and get Toby to spin the yarn in which Easton had been so much interested.
The next Saturday half-holiday was very lovely, and all Mr Nugent’s pupils agreed to make a boating excursion up the river as far as they could go, and to dine in pic-nic fashion at the end of the voyage.
“We must try and get Toby Tubb to spin his yarn,” observed Digby, as they were starting.
Mrs Nugent had supplied them with some cold provisions; and they took potatoes to cook, and tea and sugar; and they hoped to catch some fish, which would be a great addition to their fare. However, they were fortunately independent of the fish, which sometimes obstinately refuse to be caught.