"I certainly do _not_," said the clam who had spoken. "I mean butter and eggs. Pepper and salt is _fast_, but butter and eggs is _lightning_; and see that you do it right." But though Junior turned the rope with all his might and main he simply could not turn it fast enough to suit the clams. And presently with a scream of rage they rushed at him snapping their shells angrily. "Run! Run!" shrieked Lettuce Sand Witch, "or they'll nip you!" "Run! Run!" yelled Ham Sand Witch. "They pinch awful." And maybe Junior did not run. And maybe the clams did not run after him. But luckily, just as they were about to grab him, one of them tripped and fell and cracked its shell, and wept so when it did, that the other clam stopped to help it. So Junior, and Ham Sand Witch, and Lettuce Sand Witch finally reached Mrs. Sand Witch's house and were soon safe indoors. "Sakes alive!" exclaimed Mrs. Sand Witch, as the children stood before her, panting. "What has happened?" And after they had told her she said they were never even to _speak_ to those clams again. "I never did care for clams, anyhow," she said. "They're always disagreeing with people." Then she told them that dinner was almost ready and that she knew they would enjoy it. "We've got the most delicious sandpaper garnished with seaweed," she added; "to say nothing of sand pies for dessert." And when she said that both the little Sand Witches jumped up and down with glee, and cheered and cheered. "Oh, goody!" they cried. And Junior, being a very polite little boy, cheered also, although he felt quite sure that while he might like the sand pies, he never, _never_ would care for sandpaper garnished with seaweed. And then as he sat in the parlor waiting for dinner to be served, he heard a clatter of dishes in the next room, and peeping in, gave a gasp of astonishment, for there was a big, green-backed crab putting the dinner on the table, singing cheerfully to itself as it did so. And this is what it sang: 'Twas a beautiful day at the bottom of the bay In the mud where I always dwell, But being a crab I longed to grab At the bathers and make 'em yell. So I took a swim to the water's rim And looked about for a toe; And then as I looked some fellow hooked Me out of the water-o. He hooked me into a great, big boat With a piercing yell of joy, And I do declare I'd still be there Except for his little boy. But that blessed lad unlike his dad, With fright he simply roared-- He gave one squeal as I pinched his heel, And kicked me overboard. And now the aim of my humble life Is to find that boy some way, And to thank him quick for the kindly kick That saved my life that day.