I stretched out my hand.

"Help us, gentlemen!" I heard at that moment my father say, in a
hollow and shaking voice. "I am ashamed to ask but--my God!--I
can bear no more!"

"Oysters!" I cried, pulling my father by the skirts of his coat.

"Do you mean to say you eat oysters? A little chap like you!" I
heard laughter close to me.

Two gentlemen in top hats were standing before us, looking into my
face and laughing.

"Do you really eat oysters, youngster? That's interesting! How do
you eat them?"

I remember that a strong hand dragged me into the lighted restaurant.
A minute later there was a crowd round me, watching me with curiosity
and amusement. I sat at a table and ate something slimy, salt with
a flavour of dampness and mouldiness. I ate greedily without chewing,
without looking and trying to discover what I was eating. I fancied
that if I opened my eyes I should see glittering eyes, claws, and
sharp teeth.

All at once I began biting something hard, there was a sound of a
scrunching.

"Ha, ha! He is eating the shells," laughed the crowd. "Little silly,
do you suppose you can eat that?"