INTRODUCTION.
The crustaceans, to whose homes we propose bending our steps, have some strange and note-worthy peculiarities of form, structure, and habits. Instead of, like ordinary creatures, having skeletons in them, on which their tissues are disposed (much as fashionable milliners arrange the captivating raiment of the fair), they, in an apparently perverse and independent spirit, adopt a custom of their own, which to us would, to say the very least of it, prove most uncomfortable and inconvenient, and wear their skeletons outside instead of in; and although fashions do not (so far as our experience has gone) change in the realms of King Neptune, and no startling announcement meets the eager eye of Mrs. Crab, or the charming Misses Lobster, that a sweet new thing in skeletons has just arrived at the emporium of Sponge, Limpet, and Co. Limited, no crustacean lady or gentleman ever thinks of being content with one, for the term of her or his natural life; but as the external coverings become worn, and feel uncomfortably circumscribed, a restlessness, and yearning for variety is felt; and, like Professor Owen, their longings are for a new skeleton, and, like that gifted anatomist, rest not, until one is obtained. Unlike the page who, in a complete suit of armour, accompanied his noble master to the Holy Wars, and, as the legend goes, returned after years of absence, a dwarf, from having nothing else to wear, our friends are more prolific in expedient, as will be seen by those who investigate.