seized him with the instrument he was using, and held him till, as the ecclesiastical history asserts,
On hoofs erect the devil stood confessed.
At this juncture of the miraculous metempsychosis, the sign-painter appears to have embodied the pictorial representation. Near the saint a crucible is lying on the ground, St. Dunstan being supposed to be the patron saint of goldsmiths.
In conclusion it may be remarked, that signs served formerly as a general directory. There were but few names to the streets, and signs were almost the only landmarks. At night, when however few people ventured abroad, owing to the feeble and imperfect trust to be placed in the watchmen of the period, these signs were illuminated by lamps of divers colours, imparting to the aforesaid monsters an aspect of increased and surpassing hideousness.
THE GREEN CRAB.
Of all the animated denizens of our sea-shores, there is perhaps none more generally familiar than the common green crab, or the shore-crab, as it is also popularly termed—the Carcinus Mænas of naturalists. Whether at high or low water, at ebb or flow, hiding under overshadowing weeds, or craftily sunk beneath the sand, this quaint, waddling, green-backed crustacean is to be found, equally active, and equally pugnacious. With the exception of children, who are always delighted with the odd manœuvres of the creature, people mostly look upon it with contempt, partly because it is too small to hurt them much, and partly because it is not good to eat, having hardly anything inside its olive-green shell, and the little that there is not being well-flavoured. Yet, beneath that unprepossessing exterior is concealed a vast fund of interest, and the visitor to the sea-side will find himself well repaid by watching the habits of our olive-coloured friend.
The best time and place for observing the green crab in the fulness of its energies is just before high tide. And at the edge of the advancing waters crabs rise out of the sand in all directions, like the warriors sprung from the dragon’s teeth, and as if to complete the analogy, each is supplied with defensive and offensive armour, and each is at mortal enmity with its companion.
As the waters roll towards the shore, the crabs advance with the waves, ever hovering on the extreme verge, and hungrily watchful for their prey. The dashing waves tumble them over in a most unceremonious fashion, but without in the least disturbing their equanimity, and it is amusing to see how cleverly they guard themselves from being washed back into the sea by sticking their hooked legs into the sand, like animated grapnels.
Before watching the habits of the creature, just let us catch one, and examine the marvellous manner in which its form is adapted for the life which it leads.
The legs are so constructed that they permit their owner to move backwards, forwards, or sideways with equal ease, a capability which is of the greatest importance in procuring food, as well as in escaping from foes. The latter contingency is also beautifully provided for by the shape of the body, which is so formed as to enable the creature to burrow beneath the sand with singular rapidity, leaving scarcely a trace of its presence.
To watch the animal thus employed is an interesting sight. The crab half erects itself on its tail, fixes its claws firmly into the ground, and begins to shovel up the sand with the sharp hinder edge of its tail, just as a child digs a hole with its wooden spade. If the sand is wet, three or four vigorous movements are sufficient to sink the crab below the surface, when the next wave washes a quantity of loose sand over the spot, and nearly obliterates the traces of the creature that is lurking below. A practised eye will, however, detect the concealed crab by means of the bubbles that issue from the sand in consequence of the air expressed from the system.
Here we may mention that the proper way to catch a crab without being bitten is to press the fore-finger smartly on the middle of the back, and then to grasp the two side edges with the thumb and middle finger. The claws are thus forced to fold their joints, and their painful bite need not be feared.
Holding the crab in this manner, turn it over, and examine the wonderful manner in which the limbs are packed, and how admirably they accommodate themselves to the habits of the animal. The claws, when folded, exactly bring their extremities to the mouth, so that any food can be carried to the right place, and literally “tucked in.” The mouth itself is an apparatus so complicated that it cannot be described further than a series of jaws and teeth, placed behind each other in regular succession, and opening like horizontal shears.
A creature that depends upon its own exertions to capture the active prey on which it feeds, must necessarily be furnished with powerful eyes, which are capable of extending the faculty of vision over a very large field. These eyes are seen on the front margin of the crab, placed on footstalks, and having a peculiar nacreous lustre on their grey-brown surfaces. On examination with a good pocket-lens, the eyes are seen to be compound, i. e. formed of a great number of facets, each possessing the power of vision, and all communicating with their common optic nerve. The delicate raised lines caused by the serried ranks of these compound eyes are the origin of the peculiar lustre just mentioned. It will be seen, too, that the visual portion of these organs passes partially round the footstalks, so that when the creature protrudes its eyes it can see objects on all sides with equal ease.
Now, replace the crab in the water, and watch it as it exhibits the instinct which has been implanted in its being by its divine Creator.
Advancing with the flowing tide, and ever remaining within a foot or two of the edge, the crab keeps its eager watch for food, and suffers few living things to pass without capturing them. The whole nature of the animal seems to be changed while it is seeking its prey. The timid, fearful demeanour which it assumes when taken at a disadvantage wholly vanishes, and the apparently ungainly crab becomes full of life and spirit, active and fierce as the hungry leopard, and no less destructive among the smaller beings that frequent the same locality.
