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164
Glaucus; Or, The Wonders of the Shore
·
Charles Kingsley
93
Borlasii;
{136}
a
worm
of
very
“low”
organization,
though
well
fitted
enough
for
its
own
work.
You
see
it?
That
black,
shiny,
knotted
lump
among
the
gravel,
small
enough
to
be
taken
up
in
a
dessert
spoon.
Look
now,
as
it
is
raised
and
its
coils
drawn
out.
Three
feet—
six—
nine,
at
least:
with
a
capability
of
seemingly
endless
expansion;
a
slimy
tape
of
living
caoutchouc,
some
eighth
of
an
inch
in
diameter,
a
dark
chocolate-black,
with
paler
longitudinal
lines.
Is
it
alive?
It
hangs,
helpless
and
motionless,
a
mere
velvet
string
across
the
hand.
Ask
the
neighbouring
Annelids
and
the
fry
of
the
rock
fishes,
or
put
it
into
a
vase
at
home,
and
see.
It
lies
motionless,
trailing
itself
among
the
gravel;
you
cannot
tell
where
it
begins
or
ends;
it
may
be
a
dead
strip
of
sea-weed,
Himanthalia
lorea,
perhaps,
or
Chorda
filum;
or
even
a
tarred
string.
So
thinks
the
little
fish
who
plays
over
and
over
it,
till
he
touches
at
last
what
is
too
surely
a
head.
In
an
instant
a
bell-shaped
sucker
mouth
has
fastened
to
his
side.
In
another
instant,
from
one
lip,
a
concave
double
proboscis,
just
like
a
tapir’s
(another
instance
of
the
repetition
of
forms),
has
clasped
him
like
a
finger;
and
now
begins
the
struggle:
but
in
vain.
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