There are various species of oysters common in all parts of the world which are eaten as delicacies. Primeval (Neolithic) man ate oysters (the common sort) in Denmark in enormous quantity—great heaps of the discarded oyster-shells are found, buried among which are discovered stone axe-heads and bits of rude pottery. In the West Indies travellers relate that the oysters “climb” the trees which overhang the water of quiet creeks and inlets of the sea. The fact is that the branches of the mangrove trees dip into the water, and the young oyster “spat” attaches itself to the immersed twigs. After a year or two, the tree grows vigorously, and raises its branches up in its growth, so that the oysters are carried far up above the sea waves. Of course they die under these conditions, but their position suggests the explanation that the oysters have climbed up the trees. Ship barnacles fix themselves, similarly, to the twigs of willow trees in the quiet sea lochs of the West of Scotland, and this led 500 years ago to the belief that the catkins of the willow tree ripen into barnacles. Since it was also held that the little animal of the barnacle hatches out of its shell as a young goose—the so-called “barnacle goose”—the marvellous story was believed that these geese are actually budded from willow trees. I believe that the supposed relationship of the goose and the ship’s barnacle arose solely from the accidental similarity of the names of the two animals—the “bernack” goose and the sea “barnacle” being names of independent origin. The names were different originally in sound and signification, but were corrupted by fisher-folk into one and the same word. Hence a fantastic fable took its growth.