Christmas Hamper: Full of Pictures and Tales

<h2><SPAN name="Old_Clothes" id="Old_Clothes">Old Clothes.</SPAN></h2> <div class="figleft"> <ANTIMG src="images/i017.jpg" width-obs="250" height-obs="107" alt="lobster" /></div> <p class="drop-cap">THE sunniest of days, the clearest and loveliest of blue seas, and I, a little lobster, young, proud, and as lively as a cricket—that is what people say; but I can’t help thinking “as lively as a shrimp” would sound better.</p> <p>I always wear a lovely suit of armour, like those old warriors you read about. It is strong and firm and well jointed, so that I can move ever so fast—of course not so fast as that silly little fish.</p> <p>He has armour too, he says, but wears it <i>inside</i>. That seems queer to me; I can’t quite believe it.</p> <p>But I want to tell you what a queer thing happened to mine not long ago. <i>It grew small and shabby</i>, like your last year’s dress; that is why I have called this story “Old Clothes.”</p> <p>Listen. I lived a very happy life out at sea for some time, till one day I fell into a strange basket-box thing.</p> <p>There were several other lobsters and one or two crabs sitting there, looking anxious and disturbed. And I soon found out that they had need to feel so, for there was no <i>exit</i>. That means “way out” in plain words.</p> <p>Our basket was joined to a strong rope, and that was attached to a cork floating on the top of the water.</p> <p>Not long after I had fallen into this basket, which I now know was a lobster-trap, a boat rowed out from the shore, stopped just above us, and then we were lifted up, up, right out of the water, and placed in the boat.</p> <p>The next thing was a good deal of pushing and knocking about, and then some one tossed me carelessly out on the beach, saying roughly, “Too small for any use.”</p> <p>But some one else thought differently. Another hand touched me, and another voice said, “Just the thing for my aquarium.”</p> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i018.jpg" width-obs="436" height-obs="600" alt="three children lookingo a lobster trap" /> <div class="caption">THE LITTLE CAPTIVE.</div> </div> <p>What that meant I could not even guess; but it turned out to be the tiniest sea in the world. Steady old limpets, red anemones, hermit crabs, and shrimps were all there.</p> <p>It was a very nice home, with plenty of good food, the only drawback being want of space.</p> <p>And now the event happened that I promised to tell you about.</p> <p>My armour took to hurting me. You will hardly believe me. We all know that <i>new</i> clothes hurt sometimes, but <i>old</i> ones!</p> <p>It grew tighter and tighter. I wriggled about, feeling miserable. Oh, if only I could get out of this!</p> <p>At last I grew desperate. This choked, tight feeling was too much. I gave a tremendous struggle, and shook myself; crickle, crackle went my old armour, off it came, and out I stepped.</p> <p>But, oh, so tender, and so nervous! The shrimps pranced round and knocked up against me, pricking and tormenting till I could have screamed.</p> <p>I crept behind a stone and looked at my old armour half sadly. It looked just like old me, only so still, and rather as if I had been out in the rain all night and had shrunk.</p> <p>Then I glanced at the new me. Well, I was a pretty fellow—not blue-black any longer, but a reddish pink of lovely hue.</p> <p>Some one else took pride in my appearance, for I heard again a voice say, “Look at my lobster; he has cast his shell.”</p> <p>I hadn’t, you know—it was the shell that had cast me; but these men can’t know <i>everything</i>.</p> <p>The man touched me, but he hurt me almost as much as the shrimps, and I shrank farther still behind the stone out of his way. There I quietly lay for some days, till one morning, feeling braver and ever so much bigger, I stepped out for an early saunter.</p> <p>That moment came a voice, “Oh, here is my lobster! How he has grown, more than half as big again!” Down came the hand as before; and just to show him I was also half as <i>strong</i> again, I gave him a nip.</p> <p>He keeps his hands above water now, and <i>me</i> at arm’s length.</p> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i020.jpg" width-obs="300" height-obs="158" alt="crab" /></div> <hr class="chap" /></div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i021.jpg" width-obs="438" height-obs="600" alt="children on ice; front one sce sailing on skates" /> <div class="caption">WINTER ABROAD.</div> </div> <div class="figcenter"> <ANTIMG src="images/i022.jpg" width-obs="441" height-obs="600" alt="Children puling old man with branches on sled" /> <div class="caption">WINTER AT HOME.</div> </div> <hr class="chap" /></div> <div style="break-after:column;"></div><br />