In fact, there is no vestige of the true breed about it, and the want of flavor equals its miserable exterior.
There are few positions more tantalizing to a hungry man than that of being surrounded b oysters without a knife.

It is an obstinate and perverse wretch that will not accommodate itself to man's appetite, and it requires a forcible attack to vanquish it; so that every oyster eaten is an individual murder, in which the cold steel has been plunged into its vitals, and the animal finds itself swallowed before it as quite made up its mind that it has been opened.

But take away the knife, and see how vain is the attempt to force the stronghold.

How utterly useless is the oyster! You may turn it over and over, and look for a weak place, but there is no admittance; you may knock it with a stone, but the knock will be unanswered.

How would you open such a creature without a knife?
This was one of the many things that had never occurred to me until one day when I found myself with some three or four friends and a few boatmen on a little island, or rather a rock, about a mile from the shore.