64 DICK SANDS, THE BOY CAPTAIN. " No," answered Dick, " it is not a weed ; it is what the sailors call whales' food ; it is formed, I believe, of innumerable myriads of minute crustacea." "Crustacea they may be/' replied Mrs. Weldon, "but they must be so small that they are mère insects. Cousin Benedict no doubt will like to see them." She called aloud, — " Benedict ! Benedict ! corne hère ! we hâve a sîght hère to înterest you." The amateur naturalîst slowly emerged from his cabin followed by Captain Hull. " Ah ! yes, I see ! " said the captain ; " whales' food ; just the opportunity for you, Mr. Benedict ; a chance not to be throvvn away for studying one of the most curious of the. crustacea." " Nonsense ! " ejaculated Benedict contemptuously ; " utter nonsense ! " " Why ? what do you mean, Mr. Benedict ? " retorted the captain ; " sufely you, as an entomologist, must know that I am right in my conviction that thèse crustacea belong to one of the six classes of the articulata." The disdain of Cousin Benedict was expressed by a repeated sneer. " Are you not aware, sir, that my researches as an entomologist are confined entirely to the hexapoda ? " Captain Hull, unable to repress a smile, only answered good-humouredly, — " I see, sir, your tastes do not lie in the same direction as those of the whale." And turning to Mrs. Weldon, he continued, — " To whalemen, madam, this is a sight that speaks for itself. It is a tokcn that we ought to lose no time in getting out our lines and looking to the state of our harpoons. There is game not far away." Jack gave vent to his astonishment. " Do you mean that great créatures like whales feed on such tiny things as thèse ? " " Yes, my boy," said the captain ; " and I daresay they are as nice to them as semoVma atvd ^tovitvd tc^ a.ve to you.
