want to get a live one and watch him crawl with his little sucker feet.”
Bess followed the boy’s lead, and soon they were scrambling over the rough, slippery surface of the rocks, that, at high tide, were nearly covered with water. Fuzz dashed through all the little pools left by the last tide, and was soon absorbed in worrying a large snail that had injudiciously poked its head out of its shell.
Rob had vanished from sight, but he soon reappeared with scratched hands, and triumphantly asked,—
“Like raw oysters, cousin Bess?” as he threw half a dozen shells at her feet.
“What fun, Robin! Where did you get them?” asked Bess, as, unmindful of her years and dignity, she sat down on the slimy rock, and with a small stone tried to pry open the shells.
“You’ll have to smash them,” said Rob, as with one scientific blow he crushed the shell, removed the fragments, and offered the oyster to his cousin.
“What an original idea!” she said, laughing,
