Birds and Nature Vol. 11 No. 2 [February 1902]: Illustrated by Color PhotographyVarious
History
Birds and Nature Vol. 11 No. 2 [February 1902]: Illustrated by Color Photography
Various
Birds -- Periodicals; Natural history -- Periodicals
“The first thing I remember,” said Mrs. Oyster after she had drawn a
full breath, “is that I was a tiny bit of white mucus, or egg, as people
say, swimming gayly around with my brothers and sisters in my mother’s
shell. It was worse than in the case of the old woman who lived in a
shoe. There were two or three thousand of us—maybe more. At any rate
there were so many of us that our poor mother never had time to count
us. But she was one who never worried. To keep us from getting lost she
kept us in by closing her shell tight. That let her get no food. With a
true mother’s spirit she fed us on the substance of her own body until
she became very poor.”
“Beg pardon,” said Book. “Let me explain to our friend. At that time the
mucus within the shell in which the young oysters swim looks milky. The
old oyster, who is said to be in the milk, is then unfit to eat.”
“By the time two weeks had rolled around,” went on Mrs. Oyster, “things
in our house began to turn very dark in color and our mother received a
prompt message from Dame Nature saying that she must turn us out of her
house and home. Poor mother! She knew that Dame Nature’s orders must be
obeyed or death to the whole family would come. So she bade us good-bye,
gave us a bit of advice, and opened the door. Knowing nothing of the
size of the world and the things which happen outside of a shell, and
thinking that we were going out only for a little romp, we in one voice
assured her that we would not go very far.
“Eagerly we rushed out, to find that thousands of mothers on that same
oyster bank were also just expelling their little ones. I became lost
from my brothers and sisters. The water was so full of myriads of babies
like myself that it took all of my attention to simply keep out of the
way of the crowd. The oyster babies all looked so much alike that I lost
hope of ever knowing one of my brothers again. Indeed, I could scarcely
tell which was myself. Our mothers were down deep, but we rose near the
surface where we could see the beautiful blue sky.”
“Did you find anything to eat?” asked Willis with great concern.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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