them, they burst open the back door of their shell and slowly creep out
backwards. It takes about five minutes for them to get entirely out,
head, legs and all, and then for a moment or two they gaze in
stupefaction at their old shell, amazed to find that they have, by their
own efforts, unaided and alone, accomplished such a wonderful change.

The thought is overwhelming. It fills them with pride; rejoicingly they
exult, and swell with gratification. This state of self-gratulation
lasts about twenty minutes, at the end of which time they have increased
their bulk to nearly double its former size, and they remain so.

They can't get back into the old shell now, for it won't fit them, and
as there is no other for them to go into, the only thing left for them
to do is to build another house.

It takes three or four days before they get fairly to work, and during
this time they are called soft-shell crabs. This stage is particularly
dangerous to the delicate creatures, for they, in their tender beauty,
are so attractive to hungry fishes that it is really a wonder any
escape. Tender, helpless, innocent and beautiful, they are almost sure
to be victimized and gormandized.

Some, however, escape the fate intended for them, and in a few days
begin to enjoy life in a crabbed sort of a way. Another month passes on.
They become restless and uneasy, and feel that it won't do to stay too
long in one place. They think they had better make another change, and
so this time, in a more self-confident manner, they pack up and move out
at the back door again. They are no more provident now, however, than
they were at first, for, after having given up the old house, they have
no new one to move into. They are not troubled as we are with