As seen on the marble slab of the fishmonger, is very unlike his relatives beneath the waves. The curled up form in which he is seen when so exposed is not that usually assumed in its own element, unless in the act of exerting its immense powers of retrograde motion. These are so great that one sudden downward sweep of its curiously constructed, oar-like tail, is sufficient to send it like an arrow, three or four-and-twenty feet, with the most extraordinary precision, thereby enabling our friend to retreat with the greatest rapidity into nooks, corners, and crevices among the rocks, where pursuit would be hopeless. His eyes being arranged on foot stalks, or stems, are free from the inconvenient trammels of sockets, and possess a radius of vision commanding both front and rear, and from their compound form (being made up of a number of square lenses) are extremely penetrating and powerful. The slightest shadow passing over the pool in which the lobster may chance to be crawling or swimming, will frequently cause one of these sudden backward shoots to be made, and H. vulgaris vanishes into some cleft or cavity with a rapidity of motion which no harlequin could ever, even in his wildest dreams, hope to achieve. Down among the deep channels, between the crags at the sea’s bottom, alarms, except from the sea robbers themselves, are not to be dreaded. Here the lobsters are at home, and in such spots the wicker-trap, before described and figured, or the trunk-net represented in the above cut, may be laid down for them. Nets of this kind are in general use. They are made by fastening a number of stout, wooden hoops to longitudinal bars, and covering them with network. Their internal construction is much like that of the crab-pot, only there are two entrances instead of one, and twine is used in lieu of willows or twigs to prevent the prisoners from escaping. Heavy stones are attached to them as sinkers. Fish offal is used as bait, and corks at the end of lines serve to point out their position and haul them up by. Lobsters are prolific creatures, and it is well that they are so, considering the enormous quantities consumed every day in England alone.

It has been computed that each fully-matured female will produce from 18,000 to 20,000 eggs, and there is little doubt but that with proper management and the expenditure of a very small capital, artificial fecundation of the ova of crustaceans might be most successfully and profitably conducted in this country. Much attention has of late been paid to this subject in France, and many most interesting experiments in connexion with it have been tried. The annexed cut represents a set of chambers, or troughs, which were erected in the College de France, Paris, for the hatching of the eggs of the various crustacea. 1 is the reservoir in which the water is placed; this runs through the tap, 2, into a series of glass troughs in which gravel has been placed; 3, 3, 3, through which it flows and then discharges itself into the main receiver, 4. This apparatus, although very neat and ornamental, is far more costly than there is any need for. Such a contrivance as that represented in the above illustration can be readily put up for a few shillings, and will be found to answer every practical requirement as perfectly as the more costly arrangement, A, is a common tub in which a wooden tap is fixed; B, is a series of shallow earthenware dishes, or pans with lips, such as are sold at almost all earthenware shops for domestic use. The stands may be made from a few boards and fir poles nailed together; very little ingenuity is needed to enable any cottager to hatch out his own young crustaceans from the egg. The common river cray-fish has been extensively propagated artificially, and there appears no limit to the extent to which fish-hatching in all its branches may be carried by the industrious. There appears, comparatively, little trouble in the early stages of the process—the eggs of the female being placed on gravel at the bottom of the pans. The seed of the male fish is then laid on it, and, in due time, favoured by gentle streams of sea-water constantly flowing, the young crustaceans come forth. In rearing them it must be borne in mind that as their food, when in a state of nature, mainly consists of marine worms, fish spawn, and the lesser crustacea, food of a suitable character must be provided until the young nurselings are old enough to turn out in the sea pools to shift for themselves. Our space will not admit of our dealing at any length with this subject, and the few hints we have given are mainly intended to show that important results in this branch of national wealth may be arrived at by the use of very simple means and appliances. The number of Lobsters brought every season to Billingsgate Market will serve to give some idea of the importance of Lobster-fishing, and the sums of money which must change hands in connexion with it. Calculations show that from the coasts of England, Ireland, Scotland, and the Channel Islands, 150,000 Lobsters per season reach Billingsgate Market, exclusive of the supply of Norway Lobsters (Nephrops norvegicus), as represented in the accompanying illustration. These are even more abundantly supplied, and over 600,000 per season are imported. It not unfrequently happens that one day’s supply for that great emporium of sea dainties reaches as high as 25,000; and here at early morning, long before mighty London is fairly up for the day, a scene of bustle and activity may be witnessed which well repays the early riser—

Steam in clouds floats above the vast loads of newly-boiled crustaceans and molluscs; carts of every size and pattern block the way, from the castellated conveyances of Messrs. Chaplin and Horne, to the humble donkey shallow: ice, in saw-dusty bales, is jostled against orange-boxes; figs and codfish greet each other like old friends, whilst West India pineapples, haddocks, oysters, and Spanish chestnuts appear determined to make a day of it and go off together.

The popularity of the Lobster extends far beyond the limits of our island, and he travels about to all parts of the known world, like an imprisoned spirit soldered up in an air-tight box. It has been said that during the Indian war a box of regimental stores belonging to our forces fell into the hands of the enemy, who thinking that a great capture of some kind of deadly and destructive ammunition had been made, rammed the painted tin cases, with goodly charges of powder behind them, into their immense guns, laid them steadily on the devoted British troops, and then with a flash and a thundering roar, preserved lobster, from Fortnum and Mason’s, was scattered far and wide over the battlefield. Fishermen declare that thunder or the reports of artillery causes the lobsters in the store boxes or wells, in which they are brought alive to market, to suddenly cast off their large claws, just as the crabs do in their battles with each other; a smart blow will cause a lobster to throw off a damaged claw, and thus stop bleeding in the manner before described.

The regular Lobster season may be said approximately to last from the month of March to August. About the middle or latter end of the last-mentioned month the shifting of shells takes place, and the fish is unfit for human food; but, like silkworms after a change of skin, they commence feeding in the most voracious manner directly the new garment is durable enough to admit of their taking their walks abroad, and their temporary seclusion and compulsory abstinence is amply made up for by a course of heavy feeding. The lost plumpness and condition soon return, and the winter season furnishes Lobsters equal in goodness and flavour to any caught “in high lobster time.” It has been remarked by many experienced shell-fish dealers that the Lobster is exceedingly local in its habits, and there are some who profess to be able to recognise the natives of particular localities by their general appearance and the colour of their shells. Unlike some crustaceans who are coldly indifferent to the welfare of their offspring, the mamma Lobster keeps her little brood about her until the youthful lobsterkins are big enough to start in life for themselves.

The coasts of British North America, as well as many portions of the sea board of the United States, abound in mail-clad inhabitants of many kinds. In some localities great amusement is at times afforded by their capture—a sort of pic-nic or lobster frolic being organised. A boat with plenty of eatables, drinkables, and a capacious cooking pot are provided, and long poles with their ends split (much as the extremities of clothes-pins are fashioned) prepared. On the boat or skiff being propelled slowly through the shallow water, a sharp look-out is kept on the regions below, and on the Lobster being discovered, the split end of the pole is lowered quietly, and with the greatest caution, until just over the unsuspecting victim’s back, when by a sudden downward thrust, the forceps like instrument securely nips him, and he is brought to the surface in spite of his claws and the pinches he inflicts on the tough, unyielding wood. Some overhanging rock, or pleasant nook on the shore, is usually selected as a place in which to dine and cook the proceeds of the Lobster hunt. The driftwood and such dry sticks and shrubs as the neighbourhood will afford, are used as fuel to boil the pot, and the revels proceed right joyously. The bays, shallows, and mouths of rivers on the coast of Prince Edward’s Island, abound in a species of sea-weed, known amongst the inhabitants as “eel grass;” on this vast numbers of Lobsters feed as in a rich sea garden. To these favoured hunting-grounds the Lobster-catchers betake themselves, and by wading little more than half-leg deep gather as many as they require. A bushel basket has been filled in this way in less than an hour.

Like the branching growths of sub-marine life which form the connecting link between the vegetable and animal kingdoms, we find crustaceans, dwelling, so to speak, on the border lands of other races, and linking the shrimp, crab, and lobster families together; partaking of the nature of each, but being identical with neither: such are the so-called squat lobsters or Galathea. Three well-marked kinds are to be met with more or less abundantly; these are the Olive squats (G. squamifera), the scarlet squat (G. nexa), and the painted squat (G. strigosa); all these are of comparatively small size, the largest or painted description rarely exceeding three and a half inches in length. The singular alertness of all the race renders capture somewhat difficult. Like the lobsters they possess extraordinary powers of vision and retrograde movement. The horns are extremely long, and so sensitive that the slightest touch seems to reveal at once the nature of an approaching object, and enables the alarmed squat to seek a safe sanctuary between the rock clefts, from which, he is by no means easy to withdraw.

The spined lobster (Palinurus vulgaris), crawfish, cray, or crowder, will from its thorn-coated shell, long horns, powerful nippers, and generally formidable appearance, be familiar to most of our readers. Like most other crustaceans the Cray delights in a home among rugged sunken rocks, and is taken in the traps laid down for ordinary lobsters and crabs. It not unfrequently happens whilst line-fishing over sunken reefs, or on rocky ground, that, on a bite being felt and the line drawn in, a steady drag is felt as though a cuttlefish had grasped the bait; on looking down into sea beneath the boat, in all probability the Cray will be seen in all his spined armament, coming on at the end of the line like a sea porcupine with horns. Some care will be needed to coax him deftly onward until the net is well under, or your line and Cray are likely to part company. These thorn-clad heroes, “in their spiked armour like Egyptian porke pigs,” are not held in as high esteem for the table as their more smoothly-plated relations—their flesh being of harder texture and of a sweet flavour is objected to by professed lobster-eaters; still, to our taste, a well-conditioned “porke pig,” the shape of a Crayfish, is by no means to be despised. Some portions of the Pacific Ocean, and the warm seas of the East, contain them in vast numbers. Many spots on the coast of South America, and the bays and inlets of the island of Juan Fernandez, literally swarm with them; and it is to be questioned whether Robinson Crusoe, or Man Friday either, would have ever consented to leave that fertile and picturesque locality if they had entertained the least idea that it was surrounded by countless thousands of Crays in a perfect fever of anxiety as to whose good fortune it would be to get boiled first.

Some idea may be formed of the abundance of animated creatures of this and other kinds to be taken in these seas, by the following account of the fishing to be obtained in them, given by the Hon. F. Walpole:—“The fishing afforded the best return for labour, and a boat might be filled in four hours with hook and line only. Fish swarmed of every size and colour, and seemingly of every variety of appetite, for they took any bait. The bottom was literally lined with Crawfish of a large size; some must have weighed five pounds at least. There needed no hook—a piece of anything let down on a string to the bottom was enough; they saw it, grasped it, and kept their hold till you had seized them by their long feelers and borne them into the boat, where they crawled about and extended their feelers as if in search of more bait. The Conger eels, which were almost as numerous as the Crawfish, were great enemies to us, for they took up time in the catching, and their execution, which followed immediately, was a work of some skill—Gordian knots, twists, and all manner of wriggles being used to evade the knife raised to slay them, and frequently their powerful teeth enabled them to bite through the wire and escape with hook, bait, and line. Catching Crawfish was one of the favourite amusements of the seamen. One man held a pole, on which was fastened a bait thrown into the water near the beach; one or two others stood ready, and when the Crawfish, allured by the bait, had approached within attainable distance, those dogs of war pounced upon him, and he was high and dry upon the beach before he had even meditated a retreat. The boat-keepers in the boats alongside used to let down pieces of net spread on the hoops of a cask, with pieces of bait inside them. In a few minutes these were hauled up, and one of our simple friends appeared seated, greatly enjoying the travelling. Sometimes two or three came up struggling for standing room. But enough of Crawfish, I will only add that we thoroughly enjoyed both the catching and the eating. We had crawfish for breakfast, crawfish for dinner, crawfish for supper, and crawfish for any incidental meal we could cram in between. The last I saw of my friends was with their long feelers wreathing about, as they were borne about Valparaiso as presents on our return.”

We learn from the old authors that Apicius, after profoundly studying the culinary art at Minturnus, in Campania, where he feasted right royally on Crawfish, in order, it is said, to strengthen and improve the appetite—at length feeling that change of scene and provender were needed, and opportunely hearing that Craws of marvellous size and surpassing excellence were captured on the coast of Africa, the sage knew no rest until he had obtained a ship and had set sail for that favoured land. The voyage proved prosperous, and, as might be reasonably anticipated, as the shore was neared a sea-earned appetite of more than ordinary intensity set in, and the philosopher’s first thoughts rested on the delicious crustaceans he had journeyed so far to enjoy. The dusky fishers, roused into bustle and activity by the august arrival, soon brought the spoils of their crawfish hunt, rejoicing no doubt at their quick success; but the Craws were found, like most other things when made the subject of long anticipation, by no means equal to the exaggerated standard, and were contemptuously sent with their owners to the right-about, orders being given that larger specimens might be immediately brought. On being informed that to do so would be impossible, Apicius at once expressed his supreme contempt for Africa, Crawfish, and all else, ordered his pilot to attend, and gave directions for instant departure for Italy.

Pliny speaks of Crawfish of such huge dimensions, “four cubits long,” that we are almost led to believe they must have been the creation of a wild, distempered dream rather than substantial realities.

The tables of ancient Rome were often garnished with dishes of Crawfish served with asparagus; and it is our decided opinion that many worse things are daily partaken of by the gourmands of this enlightened age, notwithstanding the much-vaunted march of improvement in cookery.

The coral reefs fringing the island of Mauritius afford shelter to members of the family of Palinurus, which in both size and splendour of colouring far excel those taken in our seas. Some we had an opportunity of examining when freshly caught, by the fishermen of that fertile isle, looked so much like works of art that we could almost fancy Pallisey, that king of potters, must have returned to life, and that these were some of his choicest productions. Some were of delicate sea-green banded with white and ultra-marine blue, alternately. Others were striped with pale yellow, black, and green, whilst all were so highly glazed, and carried such a brilliant polish, that we deeply regretted the perishable nature of living things, and sighed as we reflected on the waste of so much loveliness on the more than half-heathen crew of Malabar coolies who grinned and chattered round the captives, and who had no appreciation whatever for crustacean perfection, except in association with rice and a brass cooking-pot.