the blue-eyed monster darts from his hiding-place, seizes his victim by the tail, and swallows him alive! Just look at the cannibal now; his distended body has become almost black, and bears witness to the blackness of his crime! How can the mermaid tolerate such a subject in her dominions!
As we stand on the sea-floor, the fishes that dart through the pale green atmosphere of water seem to be birds. That shoal overhead looks very like a flight of swallows; and these restless little fishes, who are perpetually quarrelling and chasing each other, remind us forcibly of sparrows. What grace and symmetry belong to the forms of these finny inhabitants of the deep, and what exquisite hues gleam from their resplendent coats of mail!
See, here come emissaries from the Court of Oberon! No, they are merely shrimps and prawns, though their transparency and lightness, their graceful gliding movements, and the long and slender wands they wave, entitle them to be considered the fairies of the sea. Those who are only familiar with these creatures in their boiled condition, can form no adequate conception of their appearance during life. In the mermaid's garden these fairy-like beings take the place of moths and butterflies.
Look at this little fellow, who moves about by discharging jets of water from a small tube or siphon—a mode of progression not uncommon among marine organisms. He hovers over a clear
