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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
60
Thus,
much—
alas!
how
little—
about
the
wonders
of
the
deep.
We,
who
are
no
deep-sea
dredgers,
must
return
humbly
to
the
wonders
of
the
shore.
And
first,
as
after
descending
the
gap
in
the
sea-wall
we
walk
along
the
ribbed
floor
of
hard
yellow
sand,
let
me
ask
you
to
give
a
sharp
look-out
for
a
round
grey
disc,
about
as
big
as
a
penny-piece,
peeping
out
on
the
surface.
No;
that
is
not
it,
that
little
lump:
open
it,
and
you
will
find
within
one
of
the
common
little
Venus
gallina.—
The
closet
collectors
have
given
it
some
new
name
now,
and
no
thanks
to
them:
they
are
always
changing
the
names,
instead
of
studying
the
live
animals
where
Nature
has
put
them,
in
which
case
they
would
have
no
time
for
word-inventing.
Nay,
I
verify
suspect
that
the
names
grow,
like
other
things;
at
least,
they
get
longer
and
longer
and
more
jaw-breaking
every
year.
The
little
bivalve,
however,
finding
itself
left
by
the
tide,
has
wisely
shut
up
its
siphons,
and,
by
means
of
its
foot
and
its
edges,
buried
itself
in
a
comfortable
bath
of
cool
wet
sand,
till
the
sea
shall
come
back,
and
make
it
safe
to
crawl
and
lounge
about
on
the
surface,
smoking
the
sea-water
instead
of
tobacco.
Neither
is
that
depression
what
we
seek.
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