ABSTRACT
I once had some fun with hermit crabs in a small cove. These little fellows are well fortified with claws, and the soft part of their bodies is protected by a shell. Not possessing the ability to form their own shells, they simply look around for an empty shell and back into it. There is no creature so nervous as a hermit crab out of its shell, as any fish would snap at its soft, tender body, even if he could not digest the claws. Four hermit crabs were removed from their shells and placed in a small pool containing three empty shells. The smallest crab found the largest shell and backed into it in a hurry, pulling his claws in after him. Two others found homes in the remaining shells, leaving one poor crab without a legal residence. He soon discovered the large shell and, not aware that it was already occupied,
slipped his soft unprotected body into the shell with a sigh of relief that proved to be of short duration, for the little fellow inside gave him a hard pinch. It drove the large hermit out but he turned around and tried to dislodge the occupant of the shell by reaching in with his claws. After it had made many futile attempts I dropped another shell into the pool, and the hermit wasted no time in occupying it.
