By the deep sea

The Beadlet being at once so widely distributed round our shores, and so abundant wherever found, becomes very suitable for use as a type of the whole class. We are not to be tempted into repeating or plagiarising the gushy nonsense that has been so lavishly poured out by many writers, in which the Anemones have been commended to popular notice because of their wonderful resemblances to flowers. Even the older naturalists were not free from blame in this matter, for they named the animals zoophytes (animal plants) and anthozoa (flower-animals), names that have stuck, and of which we cannot be rid. The term “anemone” (wind-flower) itself is utterly absurd when applied to the Actinia. Beyond the brilliant colours and the petal-like rays of certain species, there is no parallel between these creatures and flowers, and the institution of such poetical similes in too many cases only serves to hide the true nature of these interesting forms of life.

On a rocky coast at low-water we shall find the Beadlet thickly studding the rocks that stand up high above the sand or pebbles. Those that are on the perpendicular face of the rock are smooth hemispheres of dark crimson, bottle-green, olive, or ruddy-brown, with a more or less vivid thin margin of blue where the base is attached to the rock. Lower down, a little above the water, we shall find them more elongated and hanging downwards, some with the rays or tentacles partly extended, but the whole animal looking somewhat flaccid. In the water, however, whether it be of the rock-pool or the actual sea, the tentacles are so widely spread that, looking down upon them, we can see but little of the fleshy column or even of its base. These tentacles are never very long in this species, but they are fairly numerous, there being 192 in an adult specimen, arranged in six series. Their general tendency is to arch over towards the column, and so hide the row of blue eye-like spherules that peep out between the column and the tentacles. Within the radius of the tentacles is an almost flat, smooth expansion of flesh, called the disk, in the centre of which, on a conical eminence, is the mouth. The mouth is the opening of a bottomless sack which serves as stomach, and from the internal cavity, into which the digested food falls, there are channels which convey it all over the body, whilst the indigestible portion is rolled up and thrown out by the way it entered.

The entire quantity of solid matter in an Anemone is very small, as may be seen in certain species (i.e., the Snake-locked Anemone) that become exceedingly thin and flat in the daytime, but expand into a tall graceful column at night. In a similar fashion the tentacles are constantly withdrawn by becoming very small; and the full expansion of these and of the column is alike affected by the absorption of much water.

Most of the Anemones attach themselves to rocks, shells, or weeds, by means of the broad base of the column; others have a rounded base which is thrust down into sand and there retained by inflation. They can move on this base, much after the manner of a snail or slug, but more slowly; some, such as the Opelet, constantly inflate it to such an extent that it becomes a swimming bladder, buoying them to the surface of the water, along which they float inverted.

Reproduction takes place in three ways: first, a division may take place across the disk and mouth, and this be continued right down the column to the base; second, buds may appear on the disk or column and develop into complete Anemones; third, by eggs, which are usually retained until the germs have developed a row of tentacles, when they are cast out from the mouth in batches. This last is the commonest mode; and the extruded young at once attach themselves to the surface upon which they fall.

The Beadlet gets its popular name from the row of blue bead-like spherules to which notice has already been directed. In one well-marked variety of this species the spherules lose their azure hue and become quite white, whilst the normally blue line at the base becomes flesh-coloured, or is entirely absent. There are many other colour variations which it would be foreign to the purpose of a simple handbook to enumerate in detail. We will mention one, because otherwise it might be taken for some other species: if the ground colour of its column is green, it may be marked with short lines or dashes or spots of yellow; or if it is dark red or liver-coloured, it may be studded with green dots. It is one of the hardiest kinds to keep in an aquarium, where it will soon multiply by discharging a number of tiny replicas of itself, though sometimes these will be sent out as mere eggs, which will not get their tentacles until a week or ten days later.

There are several species of Anemone which, though they differ strongly in the eyes of a naturalist, may easily be confused with the Beadlet on a cursory glance when they are in the “button” or closed condition. Two of these are represented in this illustration. The Rosy Anemone (Sagartia rosea) is representative of an entirely different genus from that to which the Beadlet belongs. When expanded the column is cylindric in shape, its base not nearly so broad as that of the Beadlet. Near the base the colour is buff, deepening above into a rich ruddy-brown; on the upper part there are a number of little suckers, to which fragments of shell and gravel adhere. The tentacles are rosy, with an inclination to become purplish, and some of them are indistinctly marked by two transverse bands of a darker hue. The disk is pale olive, and the mouth white or pinkish-white, not raised like that of the Beadlet. Its usual habitat is in rock-pools that are uncovered only at very low water. One called the Pallid Anemone (S. pallida) is, I feel sure, a mere colourless variety of S. rosea.

The Snowy Anemone (Sagartia nivea) is in form much like the last-mentioned species, but its column is coloured pale olive-brown, paler near the base. The whitish suckers on the upper part are more prominent than in the Rosy Anemone. The disk, the tentacles, and the mouth are all a beautiful white. It will be found in the low-lying rock-pools.

There is another species, nearly allied, that has white tentacles with grey tips, but the disk is of a dull, orange tint, with a dusky border at the roots of the tentacles. This is the Orange-disk Anemone (Sagartia venusta), a species that likes to hide its brown column in a hole or a crevice of some overhanging rock or in a cavern. It is very local.

S. venusta is very shy, and readily folds in her tentacles—in truth, she seldom opens them very widely. S. rosea, on the other hand, will fully display her charms immediately after she has been transferred to an artificial home. S. venusta is but little inclined to rove about an aquarium, but whenever she does so she appears bound to leave a portion of her base behind her. In the course of about ten days this detached portion develops tentacles, and sets up an independent existence.

There is a group of which the members are invisible unless their tentacles are expanded, and even then they harmonise so well with their surroundings that they are seen only with difficulty. Of course, when the eye has got accustomed to their forms and colours, and knows what to look for, it finds them, if they are present.

I have shown a small rock basin to a friend whose eye is pretty keen where natural objects are concerned, but he has utterly failed to see the crowd of Anemones in full expansion that were there, until several had been almost touched by my finger in pointing them out; then a minute or two later he was finding out the others that were there, without any assistance from me. One of the species concerned was—

The Cave-dweller (Cylista undata), which is exceedingly liable to variation in form and colour. It is difficult to obtain, owing to its awkward habit of fixing its base in some narrow chink of the rock, and spreading out its broad disk above the crevice. Unless one is very careful in excavating the troglodyte, one may cut it in two, or hopelessly smash it. The column is of a dirty-looking drab colour, shading off into grey near the summit. The disk is variable in colour, and indefinite in detail; but in general effect it is a minute patchwork of black, brown, and yellowish-drab lines radiating from the whitish mouth, and minutely dotted with white. From each angle of the mouth there is a very distinct, short, opaque white line. The tentacles are numerous, and variable in length; their ground colour is a clear grey, with several cross bands of white, and at the base there are two small patches of white surrounded by black in such fashion as to form an obscure B. This is a pretty constant mark in the identification of the species, though the white patches are sometimes missing.

The Cave-dweller, though not easily seen at first, is widely distributed upon our shores, whether rocky or sandy, and careful examination of the pools on hands and knees will probably reveal large numbers. Occasionally we shall come upon a cleanly-hollowed basin in the rocks, about two feet across and almost as deep, the interior thickly coated with a dense growth of coralline. In this the Cave-dweller and the Gem Pimplet delight to grow, and in such situations they can be more easily obtained than from the chinks of rock that will not admit the fingers.

The Daisy Anemone (Cereus pedunculatus) is similar at first sight to the Cave-dweller. Why it was named daisy it is difficult to imagine, for I have seen no specimens that suggested the most remote resemblance to that flower. It is similar to the Cave-dweller both in form and habits, but it is more soberly coloured, the very broad disk being dark brown or black, crossed by very fine red lines radiating from the mouth and continued along the sides of the tentacles. The brown of the tentacles has a yellowish bias. Near the base of some tentacles there are two white bands separated by a patch of brown; others are uniformly coloured throughout, save for tiny specks of white sprinkled without order over them. The tentacles are very numerous (400 or 500), and mostly small. The Daisy is found in the crevices of pools left by the ebbing tide rather than in those of perpendicular rock-walls.

The Scarlet-fringed Anemone (Sagartia miniata) has a crimson-brown column with buff-coloured suckers. The disk is greenish-grey with darker mottlings. The tentacles are clear glassy, of a brown tint with darker rings; on the surface a pair of longitudinal dark lines converging to one point at the tip of the tentacle; at the base two patches each of black and white alternating. The outer row of tentacles differ by having the interior coloured with orange or scarlet, which shows clearly through the thick but colourless substance of the tentacle; from these the Anemone gets its name of Scarlet-fringed. It inhabits holes in the rock-pools, and in the rocks of deep water, but does not affect such deep and narrow crevices as the Cave-dweller.

Occasionally, when we are engaged in stone-turning at low-water, we shall come across a colony of the pale spectral forms of the Snake-locked Anemone (Cylista viduata), but it is one found only with difficulty, because in the daytime it compresses itself into a dirty yellow button as thick as about six of the pages of this book, with pale lines radiating from the centre. In this condition it offers to the eye the appearance of a limpet-shell, or a flake of rock. I once found a colony of seven individuals on the back of the Gabrick Spider-crab (Maia squinado), where no doubt they had been planted by the crab with a view to getting artistic effects. This suggests to us that some of the deep-water species, not referred to here, may be obtained by examining the shells of oysters, quins, whelks, etc., which are dredged in deep waters.

Supposing you have been fortunate enough to find a small-sized stone supporting two or three of these compressed Anemones (Cylista), and having taken it home have placed it in a thin glass tumbler of sea-water for observation. At night you look at the glass to see how the strangers are doing, and behold with astonishment the change that has taken place. The depressed yellow button has gone, and where it lay there stands a tall and elegantly-formed column, two inches in height, tapering from the base and the summit to the middle, and supporting a crown of many pellucid tentacles. The inner row of these stand up and arch outward, the outer ones hang out a little way and then droop with perfect grace. The contrast between the two conditions is really startling; and as you observe the tentacles slowly but continuously writhing you admit the propriety of the English name.

The column is marked with a series of paler longitudinal lines, and on its upper portion there are small suckers, though the creature does not appear to use them. The distinctive mark of the species is its long, lithe, transparent grey tentacles. There is a very fine black line running along each side of these, and at right angles to them is a couple of bands of white—one at the base and one about the middle.

On the rocks that are uncovered only at the recess of the spring tides, and in the shallow pools a little higher up the shore, we shall find abundant supplies of Opelets (Anemonia sulcata), here buried in holes with only the tentacles protruding, there attached to the bare rock-surface and exhibiting a substantial brown column, short but very broad, and bearing an innumerable, almost disorderly crowd of snaky-tentacles, ever writhing and intertwining. In some specimens these are a lovely lustrous green with lilac tips; in others grey, or white, or yellow. The grey and the green are the most abundant forms, and we may take the satiny green as the typical form. One peculiarity will soon strike him that makes its acquaintance for the first time—that unlike the other Anemones he knows, he cannot see one with tentacles withdrawn. There is no button stage in the Opelet, but there is a corresponding restful condition when the waters have receded from its rock, and the previously solid-looking column has collapsed, and the flaccid tentacles hang in an empty, lifeless manner among the weeds. The Opelet does not settle down permanently on one spot. He likes a change, and so never attaches his broad base very strongly. It is easy to get him off the rock when he is wanted for an aquarium specimen, and it is equally easy for him to slide off, and, inflating his base to a great size, float on the surface of the water with his tentacles waving downwards.

The Opelet attains a great size, and then appears to delight in sitting on the broad leathery fronds of Laminaria, with which his olive column harmonises well.

I had a specimen for about eight months that practically filled a bell-glass, nine inches in diameter. Stationed in the middle, he could nearly touch the glass all round with the tips of his tentacles; as a matter of fact he was nearly an inch away, which meant that the area occupied by his tentacles was at least seven inches across, and when he chose to inflate himself fully he could improve upon this. He was a very voracious feeder, and there was always room in his capacious column for a good meal. Alas! he was a victim to gluttony. One day I brought home a Butterfish, or Gunnel (Murænoides guttata), about six and a half inches in length. Thinking he was large enough to take care of himself, I put him in with the big Opelet. He had been there but a few minutes, when I looked in to see how he was settling down in this new world. He was already dead or insensible, in the snake-like folds of the green tentacles which were tightly coiled around the fish. I attempted a rescue, but these tentacles are wonderfully adhesive, and feel as though they had been painted with patent glue: they adhere on the slightest touch.

I was too late to save his life, so I did not trouble to recover the corpse. Before long it had reached the mouth, which extended considerably in order to accommodate it; but it was a little while before the intelligence of the Opelet could be so brought to bear on the matter in hand that the Anemone could comfortably get the Gunnel “end on.” Now the task was easy, and although the Gunnel considerably exceeded the Opelet in length, the Anemone tucked him safely in. It was not a comfortable arrangement in spite of the elasticity of the Opelet; and the fish, as could plainly be seen from outside, had to be slanted. Whether this caused a rupture of any vital part, or whether the Gunnel was too much for the Opelet’s digestive powers, cannot now be ascertained; but the Opelet sickened, and though the fish was discharged next day, the Anemone never recovered, but finally died about a week after this inordinate meal.

The late Mr. Gosse experimented upon the Opelet as an addition to our breakfast table, and declared it good. He says that “the dish called Rastegna, which is a great favourite in Provence, is mainly prepared from the Opelet.”

Perhaps some of our readers would like to experiment in the same direction whilst they are at the seaside; in that case we should be glad to have their experience and candid opinion on the suitability of our native Anemones for human food.

Dr. Andrew Wilson, in the days of his youth, desirous of emulating Mr. Gosse’s example, cooked a specimen of the Dahlia Wartlet, but the result was not such as to confirm him in this line of alimentation, though he admits that the Dahlia is probably a tougher subject than the Opelet, and requires different treatment to make it equally inviting as a bonne bouche.

One of the most delicately beautiful of our Anemones is the Gem Pimplet (Bunodes verrucosa), which may be sought in rock-pools near low-water; also at low-water, half buried in the sand, at the base of rocks.

Its name of Pimplet is a soft way of describing its column, which is crowded with pimples. As a rule these are of a light pinky-brown or rosy tint, diversified by six vertical bands of larger white pimples. In several specimens I have before me as I write, however, the column is uniformly grey with a pinkish tinge, the pimples being of the same hue and of equal size. The disk is dark grey, marked with fine lines of the darker rays proceeding to the tentacles, and the space around the elevated mouth is yellow, marked with a small clear spot of carmine at the angles of the lips. The tentacles are conical, rounded, with blunt tips; the underside transparent grey, the upper side darker, with many thin lines and broad rounded bars of opaque white across it. When the tentacles are withdrawn and we have the rounded top of the button stage, the effect of the six white rows of pimples converging at the summit and forming a star pattern is very pretty. But when the whole of the tentacles are fully expanded, the outer row bending slightly downwards, the next row curving upwards and outwards, whilst the inner ones stand more or less erect, the effect of the delicate pencillings and the pellucid greys in contrast with the warmer tints of the column is exceedingly fine.

When the specimens are growing in a coralline-lined basin, however, this peculiar style of beauty does not render them at all conspicuous; on the contrary, the Gem Pimplet is a species that will not fall to the hasty collector who rushes with a mere glance from pool to pool, but it will soon reward the careful and patient investigator who is willing to recline at the side of a small pool until his eyes have closely scrutinised every inch of the bottom, and given the fixed objects a chance of revealing themselves by a slight movement.

Owing to the transparency of the tentacles in B. verrucosa, an interesting point in the natural history of the species may be observed without difficulty. The larvæ are retained by the Pimplet until they have developed their first series of tentacles, and the hollow tentacles of the parent are made use of as convenient receptacles in which to store the brood until it is ready to be sent forth into the surrounding waters. Four or five of these may be seen in one tentacle. For some time after their discharge these young Pimplets are exceedingly beautiful. They are pellucid, and in them the remarkable structure of anemones may be clearly seen. When first excluded they are nearly globular, about one-twelfth of an inch in diameter, crowned with a double circlet of tentacles, the outer arching outward and downward, the inner more erect. Within a few minutes they have increased in size to one-sixth of an inch, by the mere absorption of water, their tissues becoming relatively more transparent, and their forms protean. From the globular form they have quickly changed to one more cylindrical, or to a cylinder with a bulbous base, then to a long inverted cone.

The Pimplet is easily removed; he has not got that unpleasant habit of squeezing himself into a crevice, like the Cave-dweller; and when placed in the aquarium he shows no resentment of his change of quarters, but makes himself at home and reveals his beauties at once, even before he has well fixed his base.

An allied species, the Red-specked Pimplet (Bunodes ballii), may be found under stones at low-water, but is more frequent in the deeper water outside our zone. It is of a warmer hue than the Gem, its pimples less prominent, and each one with a tiny crimson speck at its centre; the interspaces between the pimples being freckled with crimson. In the aquarium it will be found to select an obscure angle between the floor of the tank and a stone. It is very sluggish, and readily settles down to aquarium life.

In strong contrast to the quiet loveliness of the little Pimplet, is the massive and showy beauty of the Dahlia Wartlet (Urticina felina). The Pimplet reaches up to the light and adds grace to its beauty; but the Dahlia Wartlet spreads itself out as widely as possible, so that its diameter exceeds its height about three times. In spite of its size and its magnificence, one has got to learn how to see it before it appears at all plentiful; then, if we are on the rocks near low-water, we shall find it in abundance. It is fond of crevices and places where gravel and broken shell accumulate. Beneath these it buries its broad base and attaches bits of shell and stone to the many whitish suckers with which the upper part of its dark crimson column is thickly studded, and when the tide recedes and leaves it, the collector has to look, not for an expanse of brilliant tentacles, but for a little rounded heap of gravel. In permanent pools, however, where it has crimson weeds and white corallines around to harmonise with its bright hues, the Wartlet seldom closes, except for the purpose of securing its food; there its sucker-warts are little used, and consequently they dwindle in size. The tentacles are thick, transparent cones, marked with transverse bands of dark crimson and white. The disk is of a transparent olive hue at the circumference, merging into full crimson nearer the centre, where the disk swells into a low elevation with the mouth in a depression at its summit. It is a very voracious creature, and its large mouth and capacious stomach enable it to swallow half-sized specimens of the Shore Crab (Carcinus mænas), sea-urchins, dog-whelks, and small fishes. On this account it is not so suitable as an inmate of the aquarium as the others we have described. It is subject to great variation of colour and markings; that which we have described and figured is perhaps the most plentiful form, but by no means the most beautiful.

There is a pretty little species called the Globehorn (Corynactis viridis), to be found by the observant eye, growing in patches on the under surface of overhanging rocks near to low-water, on our south-western coasts. It is seldom a quarter of an inch in stature, and its breadth is a little more; but they are always close together in colonies of from twenty to fifty individuals. It is very variable in colour, but as a rule the members of one colony will resemble each other very closely, in this as in other respects. The peculiarity which separates it from the several species we have been describing, is in the form of the tentacles. These, instead of being more or less conical, and ending in a point, consist of globular heads set on stalks—from which circumstance the popular name Globehorn is derived. The column is of even breadth throughout, the base slightly broader, transparent, but coloured white, grey, yellow, green, brown, crimson, or scarlet. Probably the most common form is that which has the column and disk of emerald green. The footstalks of its tentacles are colourless and transparent, but studded with rich brown warts, whilst their heads are rich crimson. The thick-lipped mouth is bright green.

At low-water we shall probably come upon a rock upon which is a group of dumpy masses of clear white jelly. Carefully remove some of these to your collecting bottles, and in the evening, when they have had time to recover from the shock, they will astonish you. The squat jelly-lump erects itself into a shapely alabaster column, a couple of inches high, and near the top a rounded parapet, above which the lobes of the crown will spread out, densely clothed with feathery tentacles. It is well named the Plumose Anemone (Metridium senilis).

In the straightness and tallness of its column, the Plumose Anemone is suggestive of a deep-water species that you may sometimes have brought in shore by a fisherman who has discovered your weakness for what he will term “curios.” This is the Parasite Anemone (Cribrina effoeta), which will almost always be found perched on a full-sized shell of the common whelk (Buccinum undatum), or the red whelk (Fusus antiquus). Yet the whelk-shell will not be tenanted by the whelk, but by the Hermit-crab (Eupagurus bernhardus). The Parasite, when fully expanded, is about four inches high, and the measurement across the tentacles is not much less. Its column is pale drab in colour, the tentacles creamy white, and the disk somewhat conical. To see a weak creature like the Hermit hauling a heavy-looking shell along is a trifle amusing; but when Cribrina’s huge tower of apparently solid flesh is perched on top of that, the picture is absurd. Owing to its large size and its unhappiness when deprived of the society of the Hermit, the Parasite is not a desirable aquarium specimen, except where one has very large tanks affording sufficient depth and range for the Hermit-crab. It is not clear what advantage each of the parties to this strange co-operation gain, though it is easy to propound theories to account for it.

Such partnerships (commensalism) are by no means uncommon in Nature; and there is one subsisting on our own coasts between another species of Hermit-crab (Eupagurus prideaux) and the Cloaklet Anemone (Adamsia palliata). It is probable that the Anemone derives advantage from being carried about from place to place, and thus has better opportunity for securing food than if stationary; whilst the crab is probably saved from being swallowed by a big-mouthed fish, owing to the unpleasant odour of the Anemone. One other way in which the Hermit may benefit is by feeding on the crumbs that fall from the Parasite’s table. I have had specimens brought to me that had been hauled up on “spiller lines,” the fishermen characterising the Anemone as an enemy for stealing his bait. Here probably the advantage gained by being perched atop of the whelk-shell alone enabled the Parasite to reach and swallow the bait on the spiller hook. It should be added that the base of the Anemone gradually absorbs that portion of the whelk-shell to which it is attached, as may plainly be seen on removing a large individual from the shell.

It may be presumed that a large number of our readers not only desire to be able to identify the natural objects they encounter by the deep sea, but would like, also, to watch the habits and conduct of some of them under more favourable conditions for continuous observation than the constant ebbing and flowing of the tides will allow on the shore. For their benefit let us add a few words.

Certain of the Anemones, which we have already indicated, adapt themselves to the artificial life of an aquarium very readily, and without any great exhibition of shyness. For this purpose it is advisable to take medium-sized specimens, rather than to look out for the largest example we can find, remembering that the younger individuals in time become large; but what is of greater importance they are less likely to be injured by removal. In many cases patient search will show us examples of such species as the Beadlet attached to small stones, and it is much better for our purpose to take these, stone and all, than to disturb the attachment of others to the rock. Others may be found on weeds, especially the broad smooth fronds of the great oarweed; but some of the more delicate in texture must be removed by chipping off with cold-chisel and hammer a flake of the rock with Anemones attached.

Anemones are not great consumers of oxygen, and consequently the water in the vessels to which they are consigned does not readily become fouled, except as the result of feeding. Do not give food more often than once in a fortnight or ten days, but be sure then that it is suitable food, and in small fragments only. Some people think the best thing to give to such delicate creatures is a piece of raw steak. It is probably unnecessary to tell you that we have the best guarantee of success when we imitate Nature as closely as possible. Anemones in a state of Nature do not often get a chance of raw beef, except when a bullock has been washed overboard from a ship and comes in a very inflated and “gamey” condition, begging the Coastguard to bury it decently.

If oysters or mussels can be obtained where you are staying, give Anemones tiny pieces uncooked; or a piece out of the side of a young sole or plaice. Do not give them fish that is all hard muscle, for they cannot readily digest it. They require so very little to eat, that we may easily select that little from a fish that is known to be easily digestible.

Here, too, let me warn you against a misapprehension that may cause you to be much concerned about the supposed lack of appetite in your pets. The nutriment they extract from their food appears to be entirely of a fluid character; they suck the juices from it, and having done so completely, what remains becomes pearly white, and having been wrapped in a thick transparent glaire, is thrust out by the way it entered.

Now this excrement is of a very objectionable character, and if allowed to remain for a short time will infect the whole of the water in the vessel, and begin to destroy all the life therein: so it must be removed at once. Persons who have had no previous experience in keeping Anemones, suppose that the individual fed had no appetite, and had rejected his food without change.

The ordinary rectangular aquarium is very suitable for the reception of the Anemones, and a special piece of rock should be selected from one of the rock-pools to serve them as a residence. This stone should not cover more than half the floor space of the tank; and it should be very irregular as regards its surface, pitted with holes and recesses into which the more retiring species may partially withdraw their columns. If no suitable piece can be found readily, then one must be made by means of the cold-chisel and hammer. Look out a rock whose surface is broken with the holes of the Pholas. Taking advantage of these holes as weakening the rock, a piece of the required size can be marked off with the cold-chisel, and then by vigorous chipping can be separated.

If a suitable stone can be found ready to hand in the rock-pool, and it has green weed growing from its surface, you need nothing better, especially if that weed be the thin membrane-like tubes of Enteromorpha, for it will continue to grow in the aquarium. But beware of stones with a growth of any of the thick-fronded leathery olive weeds. For a few days they will look well, but then they will begin to decay and melt in slime, with a putrid odour that will assuredly kill everything in a day or two more, and drive you out of the house.

Should you be staying at the seaside only for a few weeks, and desire to see as much as you can of these creatures, yet have no proper aquarium to accommodate them, remember that any vessel not too deep that allows you to look into it will serve your purpose. Even a soup-plate, or an old-fashioned saucer may at times serve better than anything else for observation purposes. But if greater depth be required, a china “slop-basin,” or a thin glass tumbler may be borrowed or otherwise brought into requisition.

To convey Anemones from the sea to a distance, it is best to wrap them lightly in some of the finer seaweeds and put them into a weed-lined box. This is much better than attempting to carry them in water, and will be attended with more satisfactory results.