One day he saw a squid and a lobster put in the tank, and in connection with them was witness to a tragedy which stayed with him all his life and cleared things up considerably intellectually.

The lobster, it appeared from the talk of the idle bystanders, was offered no food, as the squid was considered his rightful prey.

He lay at the bottom of the clear glass tank on the yellow sand, apparently seeing nothing--you could not tell in which way his beady, black buttons of eyes were looking--but apparently they were never off the body of the squid.

The latter, pale and waxy in texture, looking very much like pork fat or jade, moved about in torpedo fashion; but his movements were apparently never out of the eyes of his enemy, for by degrees small portions of his body began to disappear, snapped off by the relentless claws of his pursuer.

The lobster would leap like a catapult to where the squid was apparently idly dreaming, and the squid, very alert, would dart away, shooting out at the same time a cloud of ink, behind which it would disappear.