azure, as are also the foot-jaws and face; while the eyes are of the richest vermillion, projecting from hollow black sockets.
I said that he is a "striking" Crab; and, though I was quite innocent of a pun when I wrote the word, it is characteristic in more senses than one. Both it and its frequent companion, the Shore Crab, when apprehensive of assault, use the powerful claws, not to seize but to strike transversely, as a mower uses his scythe; and this action they perform viciously, and with great force and effect.
In the Aquarium the Velvet Fiddler was shy and recluse. He at once slid into the most obscure recess he could find, beneath the dark shadow of two pieces of rock that formed an arch. For some days he remained gloomily in his new castle; but at length he ventured out under the cover of night, and would wander about the floor of the tank. But he never lost his cautious suspicion, and the approach of the candle was usually the signal for a rush back to his dark retreat. He was a fit representative of one of those giants that nursery tradition tells of, as infesting Cambria and Cornwall, "in good king Arthur's days." Gloomy and grim, strong, ferocious, crafty and cruel, he would squat in his obscure lair, watching for the unsuspecting tenants of the tank to stray near, or would now and again rush out, and seize them with fatal force and precision. As the Giants Grim of old spared not ordinary-sized men for any sympathy of race, so our giant Crab had no respect for lesser Crabs, except a taste for their flesh. I had two or three full-grown Soldier Crabs (Pagurus bernhardus); themselves
