Grapsoidians, from whom I have slightly
diverged, i must speak of one or two more.
There is the grapsus pictus, or pagurus
macuiatus, beautifully mottled with red—
before boiling—whose agility surpasses that
of all other crabs. To see how nimbly they
scale perpendicular heights, or, greater
achievement still, scour the faces of rocks
that hang horizontally, would excite envy in  a
house-fly, and perfectly madden that American
gentleman who lumbered along with his
head downward over the stage of Drury Lane
Theatre a couple of years ago. The grapsus
pictus has fancies which are anomalous: he
can't live in the water, but for the life of him
can't keep away from it; he is always getting
wet, and sometimes, when he is washed off
by a heavier sea than usual, gets drowned
into the bargain. The horseman crab—
called in Barbadoes Ben Trotters—belongs
to this swiftly-moving race. Their reputation
is of old date, for Pliny tells us that in
Phoenicia is a kind of crab called hippaee, or
rather hippeis (that is to say horses or
horsemen), which are so swift that it is
impossible to overtake them. Of the same
agile family are the clubsmen and she-biters,
whose claws are of immense size in comparison
with their bodies; and the scuttle-crab,
which feeds upon moss, and climbs the highest
trees to reach its favourite food.

Contrasted with these active citizens are
the dromia hirsutissima, of Desmarest, and
the lazy crab of Hughes. The former, a
very hairy fellow, is indolent in his motions,
and lives in spots where the sea is moderately
deep, taking everything coolly. His wife is
very much given to being in a state of torpor
(engourdissement). The lazy crab is a very
large and beautiful one. The back is
generally full of small knobs of a pale-scarlet
colour, guarded here and there, but especially
about the edges of the back shell, with short,
sharp prickles. It has two great claws, ten
inches long, and when the indented edges of
these claws close together, they fall as
regularly into their sockets as the opposite sides
of a pair of nippers.

The list would be a very long one if I were
to stop to enumerate all the crabs that are
good-looking ; I shall confine myself here to
the crabes peintes, or painted crabs of the
West indies: they belong to a class respecting
which I shall have more to say by and by.
"These crabs,'' says Rochefort (Histoire
Naturelle des Antilles, quarto, Rotterdam. 1681),
"are painted so many colours, which are all so
beautiful and vivid, that there is nothing more
entertaining than to watch them as they move
about under the trees, in the day time, seeking
their food. Some are of a violet hue, stained
with black; others of a bright yellow, marked
with gray and purple lines, which begin at
the throat, and spread over the back; others
are striped with red, yellow, and green, and
so glistening that they look as if their shells
had been newly polished."

It is not to be supposed that a race of
animals, which under such various forms are
so widely scattered over the globe, should be
allowed to finish their career without occupying
a place in the Pharmacopaeia of the
middle ages, when remedies for accidents
and diseases were sought even in stocks and
stones. The crab was held to possess many
occult virtues. " Singular good are they,"
observed one old writer, "against the bytynge
and styngynge of serpentes." "The juice of
crabs," says Gesner, " mixed with honey, is
useful to those who have dropsy." Again :
"' An ointment made of the ashes of a crab's
shell, with honey, cureth the king's evil."
Oil, wax, vinegar, and wine, are the
accompaniments with which the crab-medicine is
exhibited. ''Steep the flesh of a crab," advises
Rondolet, "in a barley or pimpernel water: it is
good for the bite of a mad dog." Marcellus,
another learned Theban of that ilk, recommends
a tablespoonful of powder of crabs to
be taken with sweet wine, when you desire
to raise your spirits: the wine without the
powder is, I should imagine, the better
recipe. The eyes of crabs have enjoyed a
medicinal reputation down to a very late
period, and the soldier crab is still highly
esteemed in some of the West India islands,
for the oil that is in him, which is looked
upon as being of great service to lubricate
stiff or swollen joints. Some persons recommend
the flesh ot crabs as an admirable diet
for old people; but this brings me to the
most interesting part of my subject.

To eat your crab is, after all, the best use
you can put him to. In what perfection this
is accomplished in the West Indies I will
endeavour to show, after describing the
dainty decapod for which these islands are
pre-eminently famous. I need scarcely
observe that it is of the land crabs I am
about to speak.

This genus has a variety of names. The
scientific name is gecarcinus, or crab of the
earth. Its local appellations are derived from
its colour, as the red, the white, the black,
and the mulatto, in the English islands; the
French call them toulouroux, and crabes
peintes, or violettes. Of all these, the black
mountain crab of Jamaica is the most
delicious. His habits are thus described by Patrick
Browne in his History of Jamaica (fol., London,
1756): " These creatures are very numerous
in some parts of Jamaica, as well as in the
neighbouring islands, and on the coast of the
continent. They are, in general, of a dark
purple colour, but this often varies; and you
frequently find them spotted, or entirely of
another hue. They live chiefly on dry land,
and at a considerable distance from the sea,
which, however, they visit once a year, to
wash off their spawn, and afterwards return
to the woods and higher lands, where they
continue for the remainder of the season;
nor do the young ones ever fail to follow
them as soon as they are able to crawl. The