of that region. In like manner, the southern oysters when brought to the north become (when they can endure the climate) the rivals of the northern natives in firmness of flesh and depth of body. As a rule, however, they do not maintain themselves more than a single season in the colder northern waters; nor do they bear transportation to Europe or to California so well as the oysters of the north.

As for comparative merit, that is a matter which rivals the oyster itself in delicacy. In Washington or Baltimore, the oyster dealer will generously admit that it is quite possible to find good oysters outside of Chesapeake Bay; but for a "perfect" oyster, he will tell you that it is useless to look to any other locality. The Philadelphian is equally sure that the estuary of the Delaware is the perfect oyster's only home,-a local prejudice which the oyster-eater of New York attributes to a deplorable ignorance of what a firstrate oyster really is. Doctors differ; and the unprejudiced can only rejoice that anywhere between the parallels of 36° and 40° north, one may find oysters worthy of any human palate. Here in New York the favorites are, first and foremost, the Saddle Rocks, a variety which Jerseymen insist has been exterminated these many years. They still remain, however, not only as direct descendants from the colony about the original Saddle Rock, but in many other localities in Long Island Sound; for it was not a distinct variety that gave the name its fame, but only an exceptionally thrifty chance-sown bed of the common natives, a grade of oyster that artificial culture easily and constantly rivals. Next in rank may be mentioned the Blue Points, coming chiefly from Great South Bay, Long Island; the same as the former in stock, but bred under different conditions, and so differing somewhat in flavor. The products of Shrewsbury River, N. J., probably come next; these were formerly transplanted natives of Newark Bay, improved by development in the favorable waters of the Shrewsbury; but more recently, we are informed, the seed is commonly brought from Long Island Sound.

Twenty years ago the oyster business was carried on at the north very much as it now is in more southern waters. The natural beds were mercilessly dredged-as they still are, for that matter-and the perpetuation of the supply was left for the most part to accident. Occasionally a man who owned a mill-pond or claimed the control

The

that the supply steadily diminished. moment a chance-sown bed was discovered a fleet of dredgers would gather in hot haste, and in a little while every obtainable oyster would be carried away. Nothing was done to repress the ravages of star-fish and other enemies of the oyster, and its utter extermination was seriously threatened.

From time to time local laws were enacted restricting the amount of oysters that might be taken by any one man in one day, and forbidding the working of oyster-beds during the summer season; but these afforded no real protection to the more valuable natural beds in deep water, while the close time, from which so much was expected, proved a hindrance rather than an advantage to the multiplication of spat. One other law, however, indirectly and unwittingly furnished a basis for the development of American oyster culture-the only really practical and profitable system of oyster propagation the world has seen. To enlist her citizens in the work of restoring and preserving the oyster-beds of the Sound, the state of Connecticut passed an act granting to any resident of the coast the privilege of

claims were entered, and there was a promise of a great renewal of once famous beds which had been depleted by over-dredging or by the ravages of star-fish. But the promise was not fulfilled. The measures adopted for restocking the grounds were inadequate or useless; nothing was done to insure the fixing of spat or to protect from the attacks of their enemies such young oysters as chance supplied; and when a bed happened to be successful it was more likely to be stripped by thieves than to yield a profit to the owner. Only those who were directly and constantly employed in the business could manage such property advantageously; and gradually (and in spite of

KEG-MAKING.

strenuous opposition from those who refused to recognize the authority of the state to divert to individuals what had always been common right) the more valuable allot

by the name of Hoyt, who held possession of a few acres of oyster ground, which they annually replenished with seed brought from the Hudson River. The young oysters, attached to empty shells and other rubbish, were usually gathered and transplanted in the summer time, when nothing was doing in the regular oyster trade; and it was repeatedly observed that later in the season a plentiful crop of still younger oysters had established themselves on the imported seed. Whence did they come? Were they imported with the others when too small to be seen, or were they the offspring of native oysters spawning on the spot? If the latter were true why should not the spat be equally

plentiful where no planting had been done? The question was hard to answer. Even among professional naturalists, at that time, the physiology of the reproduction of oysters was an unsolved mystery. Yet our young oystermen were confident that there must be a reason for what they saw, and that if they could once master it they would not only be saved the cost of bringing seed from abroad, but they would be able to produce regularly the higher grade of oysters natural to the waters about Norwalk Islands. To this end Mr. Charles Hoyt studied oysters individually and collectively with the directness and perseverance of a born naturalist. He practiced vivisection relentlessly, watching the oyster's internal changes day by day, particularly during spawning time, until

he was able to tell from an oyster's appearance not only whether those of a given bed were about to spawn, but when the spawning would begin. At the same time he was as intently studying the external conditions of successful spawning, by far the obscurer problem of the two. Some seasons every object exposed to the tide would be found covered with spat. At other times, though the parent oysters showed every evidence of good spawning condition, and were seen to emit spawn in abundance, the young crop would be a total failure. A clue to the mystery was first found in noticing that with a general failure of spat certain localities would be found in the fall thickly set with young oysters; and these were places

which had been much dug over during the summer by men tonging for clams. Further, it was observed that objects known to have been lost overboard during the spawning season-tongs and dredges, rubber boots, bottles, anchor stones, clam-shells opened for fish-bait, and so on-would be found in the fall well covered with young oysters, while the surrounding objects were quite barren. Why should these things be? Mr. Hoyt not only asked himself this question again and again, but put the question repeatedly to nature, believing that the answer would make him master of the secret of successful oyster breeding. The story of his experiments, his unaccountable successes, and (at the time) still more unaccountable

failures, would furnish an entertaining record of Yankee acuteness, pluck and perseverance; but there is no space for it here. It is enough to say that after long groping in the dark he began at last to see his way clearly, arriving at the following conclusions. of vital importance in oyster culture:

First: That the young oysters are born during July and August, earlier or later according to the season, the depth of the water, and other external conditions.

Second: That the young oysters, or spat, swim freely for a time, then attach themselves for life to some solid object if anything suitable be presented; if not they die. Third: The supporting object, which may be any firm substance, must be clean, that is, free from the slime that speedily covers everything under water.

the half-shell before us. At first sight it seems to consist of two almost structureless parts only-a central tough portion commonly miscalled the heart, and a larger mass

For the successful propagation of oysters, two conditions are therefore essential: the breeding oysters must spawn, and the vagrant oyster-brood must be furnished with suitable resting-places at the precise moment when they are ready to settle down for life. It is in supplying the latter, surely and cheaply, and in a way that answers for deep water as well as shallow, that the superiority of American oyster culture consists. And it is to the credit of Mr. Charles Hoyt, that two or three years before the famous studies and discoveries of Professor Costé were begun in France by command of the French government, he had anticipated them alone and unaided; and more, he had put his discoveries to a more successful use, employing simpler, more natural, and more economical methods of oyster propagation than the French oyster farmers have attained to even at the present day. The best of the French methods, the "tile method," developed by Dr. Kemmerer, of St. Martins, Isle de Ré, is at once feeble and enormously expensive compared with the American method; and its application is limited almost exclusively to flats daily laid bare by the tide. In our climate such operations would not survive the first cold winter, even if it were possible to produce oysters by them at anything like the price which oysters bring in our markets.

Though simple, the internal structure of the oyster is much more curious and interesting than might be supposed. Let us examine one as it lies, a tempting morsel, on

ONE, TWO AND THREE YEARS OLD.

of whiter and more tender substance edged with black. The tough part is the strong muscle with which the oyster closes and holds together the two valves of its shell. When the muscle is relaxed the valves are slightly thrust apart by means of a small elastic ligament in the hinge, the oyster's normal condition at rest being with its doors a little ajar. The softer portion of the oyster's body comprises the various organs of life, common to all animals of the higher grades. That pulsating, purse-like transparent body in the cavity back of the great muscle, is the heart. In spite of the rough usage the animal has received in the process of opening, the heart keeps on slowly beating. Life persists,-sensitive life, too, as readily appears on touching the border

fold series of frills thus disclosed are

the oyster's gills. Carefully cut away the lifted flap, and the greater part of the oyster's in

ternal economy will be laid bare.

Very little requires special explanation. The current set in motion by the cilia flows downward toward the hinge, passing to the mouth through the tentacles, which, like sensitive lips, select from the contents of the stream the living atoms which constitute the oyster's food; for the oyster is not an omnivorous scavenger, as has been thought, but a dainty feeder, subsisting entirely on living organisms. The rejected particles pass on around the muscle, and are cast out with the stream, which, taking up in its subsequent course the waste and refuse of the system, serves as a common sewer to this close-walled realm. The stomach lies below the mouth, concealed by other organs; so also does the large and important organ, the liver: and the two usually contain digestive juices enough not only for the oyster's need, but also for the need of the man who eats it. It is this ability of the uncooked oyster to digest itself that makes it such a welcome morsel to the stomach of the dyspeptic.

Sexually, the oyster is complete in itself, the ova being produced and fertilized by the same individual; and every mature oyster is capable of being the parent of millions. Reproduction begins the third or fourth year. The ova are not at once cast upon the water for development, as in the case of most other mollusks, but are retained in the folds of the gills for hatching. At an early stage the ova are fecundated; and, bursting the capsules which contain them, they swim freely in a thick white fluid prepared for their reception. At this time the oyster is said to be in "milk." Gradu

ally the fluid thickens, until the swarming young are ready to be turned from their parental shelter to shift for themselves. Then they are ejected in puffs of milky cloud, the pasty coating of each young oyster quickly hardening into a delicate shell as soon as it comes in contact with seawater. At this stage the young fry have little likeness to their parent; but their free life quickly ends. Their shell thickens, and losing their capacity for swimming, they are forced to adopt the settled life of their kind-unless, as occurred with the specimen figured on page 234, they happen to settle on the back of a crab or other traveling object.

The prime secret of successful oyster breeding lies, as already noted, in capturing the young vagrants just at the time the character of their life changes. In this it will not do to trust to nature alone, in other words, to accident. Nature fails too frequently; so art steps in and makes sure that the conditions under which nature succeeds are uniformly secured at the critical moment.

The oyster farmer's work falls naturally into two parts. During the cooler months he is chiefly engaged in harvesting his crop and preparing it for market. As warm weather approaches he begins the more specific work of making ready for the spawning season. As the oyster requires from three to five years to mature, it is evident that the grounds of any extensive grower will present beds of oysters in various stages of development, with other areas from which the matured crop has just been gathered. In no case, however, will