“The cause is the Pholas, or Stone-piercer,” said Agnes. “I remember, mamma, you told me all about that curious shell-fish long ago; and that the piles are now obliged to be covered with nails driven into them, to prevent them from being bored through: but I never saw any of the piles before.” She had not much time to look at them now; as, though the wind was against them, the steam-packet flew on as rapidly as the railway-train had done: and, as Mrs. Merton gave her arm to her husband, who was walking up and down the deck, Agnes knelt on the seat near the side of the vessel, to watch the little billows as they rose up rapidly, and broke against it. But her attention was soon engaged by some curious little animals which were seen in the water, and which appeared like fairy umbrellas, opening and shutting occasionally as they floated along. Some of these curious creatures were rather large, with a kind of fringe round the lower part; and others had what appeared to be a fleshy cross on their summit, which was of a bright purple. They were so numerous that Agnes thought she should like to catch one or two, and she leant over for that purpose; but her little arms were not long enough to reach the water. A young man who saw her trouble was about to assist her, when the old gentleman who had been their fellow traveller by the rail-road stopped him. “You had better not touch them,” said he; “they will sting you.” [Illustration: _Fig. 1._ MEDUSA, OR SEA-NETTLE. ] “Sting!” cried Agnes, “can such beautiful creatures sting?” “Yes,” replied Mr. Bevan, “if you were to take them into your hand, you would find an unpleasant tingling, which would be followed by heat and pain, like the smarting produced by the sting of a nettle.” “The vulgar people here, call them Chopped Ham,” said a young man, with a book in his hand; “and they say that the sting is the mustard that is usually eaten with Ham. In the Legends of the Isle of Wight,” continued he, glancing at his book, “this strange name is supposed to allude to a chieftain of the name of Ham, who was killed and chopped in pieces near Netley Abbey, and who has given his name, not only to Southampton, but to Hampshire.” “I should like to get some of these curious creatures in spite of their stinging,” cried Agnes; “they are so beautiful. They look like fairy parasols, continually opening and shutting, but made of the finest gauze, and trimmed with long fringe; and see, there are some tinted with all the colours of the rainbow.” “Yes,” said Mrs. Merton, “the poet says, ——‘There’s not a gem Wrought by man’s art to be compared to them; Soft, brilliant, tender, through the wave they glow, And make the moonbeam brighter where they flow.’” “How very pretty, mamma,” cried Agnes.