If I had not been afraid it would escape me, I would have
tried to take it alive, it seemed so very tame."
As we were talking, Jack had been trying, with many grimaces, to force
an oyster open with his knife. I laughed at his vain endeavours, and
putting some on the fire, showed him them open of themselves. I had no
taste for oysters myself; but as they are everywhere accounted a
delicacy, I advised my sons to try them. They all at first declined the
unattractive repast, except Jack, who, with great courage, closed his
eyes, and desperately swallowed one as if it had been medicine. The rest
followed his example, and then all agreed with me that oysters were not
good. The shells were soon plunged into the pot to bring out some of the
good soup; but scalding their fingers, it was who could cry out the
loudest. Ernest took his large shell from his pocket, cautiously filled
it with a good portion of soup, and set it down to cool, exulting in his
own prudence. "You have been very thoughtful, my dear Ernest," said I;
"but why are your thoughts always for yourself; so seldom for others? As
a punishment for your egotism, that portion must be given to our
faithful dogs. We can all dip our shells into the pot, the dogs cannot.
Therefore, they shall have your soup, and you must wait, and eat as we
do.
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