The Toledo chronicle. [volume] (Toledo, Tama County, Iowa) 1873-1924, 1875-11-18
gnr nuu,11 Readtrs.
OYSTERS AND THEIR FRIENDS.

THIS summer, while spending few
weeks on the southern coast of Connecti-
cut, found l was in the neighborhood of
the oyster family, being within stones
throw of the vast cities which they had
built under the sea.
Miles of streets and blocks of white
stone or shell houses they occupy, under
the salt water; and the fact that they are
not themselves very gossiping set makes
it the reason why they should not be gos-
siped about.
When found, to my amazement, that
at every meal was putting an end to
the usefulness and enjoyment of dozen
or more lives which had attained the dig
nitied aye of three, five or eight years, I
wanted to know something of the personal
history of these unhappy victims. So,
next day, when we were tossing up and
down on the waves in a jaunty little sail
, | asked that brown old Captain to
md me all there was to know about
1rS.
n begin the story, he said the fisher
Did oysters shells they can carry and
- ley row along they scatter them so
they may fall and make bed under
water. After a time the eggs or
vn of many a mother oyster who lies
len away among the rocks and sea-
/ along the shore come floating down
ugh the water seeking for a home.
a y take very naturally to these old oys-
,. hells and there they cling, beginning
with to build their own shell houses,
courageous little oyster making
J,, rate home for himself, although five
tx may be near neighbors just around
y corner of the same old homestead
vice every day the tide comes and
Id. i washing thousand tiny particles
'od around the stony houses of these
crs, who open their doors, take what
OBJ can get and then go back to their dull
.. house, keeping inside all the time
yer ling to be three years old; for until
,-.,.time an oyster is not considered large
enough to eat.
If any grain of sand or other unexpected
visitor intrudes within the shell the brave
little oyster makes the best of his unwel-
come guest, overlooks his faults and
covers up his sharp points by clothing
him with some gentle secretion from his
own patient body. In the South American
pearl oyster this at last results in that
lovely and translucent thing we call
pearl. In the tropics oysters sometimes
fasten themselves to bushes or low trees,
but their shells contain sufficient water to
nourish them until the tide returns.
When the New England oysterman-
who has made his beds some four or five
years back, and marked them out by long
poles which stand up in the water-wants
to gather his crops for market, or have
nice little feast at home, out he goes in
that frail little boat, which has served
him many a good turn, carrying pair of
huge rakes with long, wooden handles
fastened together in the middle like
,,nir nf ro;rro-r WI
bed he stands up in the boat and with
these long prongs feels about under the
water until he discovers a cluster Of oys-
ters, which he rakes up with a ruthless
hand and pours into the boat, stops mo-
ment to throw out the seaweed and stones.
and then makes another plunge.
There are other ways of gathering oys-
tcrs; for have often stolen out of bed in
the dawn of the morning, when the tide
was low, and have seen the fishermen
wading up to their waists in water, paw
ing about with short rakes and occasion
ally pulling up a cluster of oysters, which
they can feel with their feet.
Not far from the oysters are their cousins
the clams-who content themselves with
living farther up the beach, buried about
a foot in the mud, SO that in low tide
when the ground is laid bare they 60 out
and dig them with shovel, as though
they were field of potatoes.
Beside these, far out in the water, scrab-
bling about in an aimless way, live those
more distant relatives-the Holsters. For
these the fishermen put down deep wooden
baskets, which they call lobster-pots. Any
unfortunate victim who gets into this
snare can never find his way out again,
struggle as he may; and so when the
owner goes out in his boat he often finds
his lobster-pots well filled.
1t is a very simple and hard life these
poor fishermen lead; forever in the water
and under the water-many times out for
a day and night, toiling under the
fiercest suns and tossed on the widest
billows, which threaten each moment to
swallow them up forever, their poor
wives meanwhile looking out into the
darkness, only praying that the angry
waves and the fierce winds may spare their
lives-never thinking to murmur that
as in the Bible story CT old-they have
toiled all night and taken nothing. -