THE SCALLOPS. COMB SHELLS - FAMILY PECTINIDAE. Shell bivalve. free or attached, orbicular, ribbed, unequal, with ear-like extensions of the hinge line; internal ligament in pit under beak; foot small, finger-like, with large byssal gland; mantle open, with double border of fringed tentacles, and row of conspicuous eyes; siphons none.
Genus PECTEN, 0. F. Mull.
Characters of the family. Distribution world-wide. Two hundred species. Multitudes assembling on a restricted area, form "scallop banks" from which are dredged several species used as food. The adductor muscle is eaten. Found in shallOw water to two hundred fathoms depth.
The scallop's shell is admirably adapted to protect without overburdening its occupant. The valves are arched and plaited to give the greatest strength with the minimum of weight. The wide hinge is the fulcrum upon which the central adductor muscle acts to shut the two valves at will, and the resilient ligament opens them.
The shell rests upon the right valve, which is arched and smooth and pale compared with its mate. The anterior ear is the more prominent one. There is a close interlocking of the margins when the muscle contracts, except for a misfit of the large ear. A notch permits the passage of the byssus, the cord by which the mollusk attaches itself. A glutinous secretion of the byssal gland is extruded from pores, and these threads are man ipulated by the finger-like foot to form a rope before they become toughened by their contact with sea water.
Young scallops are all able to spin this byssus at will. They tether themselves by it to objects on the sea bottom, and cast 411 The Scallops. Comb Shells off their anchor rope when they wish to be free again. Adults, with a few exceptions, abandon the byssus habit. The com mon Mediterranean P. varius retains it through life.
To see hundreds of scallops the size of a silver dime flitting through the shallows on a bright summer day will certainly con vince you that even mollusks can express the joy of living as plainly as a flock of blackbirds or a troop of boys bound for "the old swimmin' hole." Not every beach furnishes this spectacle, nor every day. The abundance of scallop shells on the sand determines the location of the banks. At low tide the youngsters are to be looked for in tide pools and in the shallows near shore.
They snap their shell lips together with a succession of clicking sounds ; at each contraction of the great muscle a jet of water is thrown out under the ear, darting the body forward, some times a yard or more, always in a straight line. Changes of direction are made with great dexterity at the end of a stroke, a zigzag course enabling the mollusk to escape capture.
No creature that lives in the vasty deep can be prettier than these daintily sculptured, gaily painted shells, full of life and grace of motion, sometimes trailing behind them plumes of seaweed. Look where the opening lips show the fringed man tle margins. They are as brilliantly coloured as the shell. A row of bright eyes heads the fringe. Each eye is an iridescent green spot, encircled by a rim of turquoise blue. Some author ities doubt that these eye spots are more than phosphorescent, illuminating organs. Yet they have the cornea, lens, choroid coat and optic nerve. Dr. Cooke calls them bona fide eyes, approx imating more closly to vertebrate eyes than any other found among bivalve mollusks.
The scallop does not crawl nor burrow. The foot is dwarfed till it passes easily in and out of the byssal notch. The locomo tor function belongs to the single adductor muscle. This is the part we eat. It is strange that the inactive oyster has so tough a muscle that we discard it, Counting the remainder a delicious morsel. The scallop's hard-worked muscle is a white and tender bite that tastes like lobster meat. We eat it joyously, casting away the soft parts with the shells. The scallop is in season the year round. It is prepared in a multitude of ways. Fried like oysters it is delicious. Stroll down some Saturday night on one of the avenues in New York where the push cart market is in 412 The Scallops. Comb Shells full swing, and all the races of the earth are represented in the throng. They stand in line before a strenuous little German who skims scallops out of a pot of boiling fat, set over a coal fire in the throat of an open chimney. His flustered helpmeet hands him fresh scallops, rolled in cracker dust, with a dash of salt and pepper. He cannot keep ahead of his waiting line of customers.