seems to say to itself: "If I wasn't so big I wouldn't be so hungry;" so, to save expenses, it drops off a piece of its body. If it still cannot find enough to eat, it drops off another piece—and so on until there is nothing left but its mouth. Then, if it gets something to eat, it begins growing again, and so replaces all those parts of itself that it threw away. The spider and the lobster can grow new legs lost in a fight or accident.
That seems very strange until we remember that when we are ill, or for any other reason eat and digest less than we need, we lose flesh, too, though not all in one spot. Then, when we begin to get well we put it on again.
Perhaps our bodies wouldn't know how to do that if this queer little animal hadn't taught nature how! And perhaps we wouldn't have five fingers and five toes if the starfish hadn't counted five first; nor any eyes or nerves if he hadn't found them for us.
And, Mary, when you carry your doll baby in your arms, remember the sea urchin did it first!
Perhaps she taught you how.
Perhaps.
Who knows?
At any rate, there she is—Mrs. Sea Urchin, carrying her little urchins in her spiny arms!
