The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1881-09-17
A WONDERFUL SPINNER.

A WONDEhFUL SHlNNEk.
Little children, have not even the
few years of your young lives taught you
that this beautiful world of ours is full
of wonderful things? Have you not al
ready learned that our loving Father is
wise and thoughtful in all things, and
that He never places even the lowest
creature in the world without giving it
all that is needful to- its welfarep
The great ocean holds many of these
humble little toilers, and it is the story
of the life-w work of one of these families
that am going now to tell you.
Have you ever gone into great fac
tory, where men and women are at
work amidst the buzz of machinery,
spinning threads, of which, by-and-by,
will be woven the very clothes you and
wear? These men and women have
to devote long months, or years, to
learn how to do their work, and other
men have devoted other years to in
venting the machinery with which these
delicate little threads are spun; and all
the work is done in the midst of hurry
and hustle and noise.
1t all seems very wonderful, the toll
OF these human spinners; but what will
you say when l tell you that, many and
many time, you and | have held in
our hands more wonderful spinner
than these; spinner SO humble and
quiet that few know of its industry and
skill; spinner who has again and
again come to the aid of man, when,
but for its help, all his toll of months
and years must have been lost and
swept away?
Perhaps you will hardly believe it
when tell you that the homely little
mussel, that we use to bait our fish
hooks with. is this very spinner of the
sea. Not the fresh-water mussel, but
THAT which dwells by the sea- in the
crevices of the rocks, and gives us Sc
much trouble to tear it loose from its
rocky bed
When the tiny mussel first creeps out
of the little egg which held it, it floats
about in the water at the mercy of the
wind and the waves; but very soon, as
it grows larger, and the time comes Tor
it to settle down for life, Dame Nature
the faithful servant of the great Gre
ator-furnishes the humble mussel with
the means of moving about at will, so
that it may select its home.
Take up one of them in your hand
and open it carefully with knife, and
you will see an organ or muscle of con-
ical shape and deeply grooved in APP
pearance. This is the mussers foot"
and it is by this it drags itself along in
its early days while hunting for rock
or bank which it may suit its fancy to
choose for its future home.
This "foot' is just like that of the
snails we all know so well, and if you
will watch a snail moving along on the
ground you will know exactly how the
"Spinners of the Sea"--and, in fact,
all of the mollusk family-travel be-
meath the water.
The mussel does not love a solitary
life. On the contrary, when we find
one we find thousands-aye, and hun
dreds of thousands-all fast-bound,
by their own worh, to their rocky
homes.
just as soon as the young mussel,
looking out for home, finds a place to
suit it, it puts its foot firmly in the rock,
and at once begins the work of its life
spinning threads, so that it may not be
swept away from its new home
If you look once more at the open
shell in your hand, you will see hang
ing down from the base of the foot a
bundle of stout threads, which the foot
has spun out of semi-fluid material
that is secreted in a gland in its inte-
rior. And thus the spinner of the sea
not only spins his own thread, but ac-
tually manufactures the material of
which he makes it.
AS we have said, the young mussel
begins this work as soon as it settles on
place in which to pass the rest of its
days. The moment the foot touches
the rock, it projects beyond the shell
and then draws back, leaving fast to
the rock delicate thread, which at
first is very tender, but almost instantly
hardens and strengthens. Then the
foot is pushed out again and again
withdrawn, and there is another thread;
and so the mussel continues to spin it's
thread, until very often it is tied so
firmly to the rock, or stone, or larger
shell on which it lies, that the mass of
threads is dozen times as large as the
mussel it incloses.
Once, far away on the shore of one of
the beautiful islands in the Bay of Pan
anna, l, who write you of these busy
little spinners of the sea, found one of
them had spun such mass of threads
over its little shell that it looked like a
huge sponge; and after working with
chisel and hammer for five minutes, to
loosen the threads that tied il to its
home, took pity on the industrious
little worker, and left it to bask in the
sunshine and the waves it loved so
well.
These threads that HANG down from