finesse. This tendency affectionately to apply pet 

 names to the creatures of my laboratory has some- 

 times served, so to speak, a double purpose of 

 identification. Not seldom have I learned through 

 the eyes of others how "Maggie," "Hank," "King 

 Tut," or "Bimbo" — meaning respectively some 

 turtle, hermit-crab, fish, or sea-worm of personality 

 — revealed another singularity of trait or habit 

 while I had been occupied elsewhere. 



Thus, in this manner, upon my return one even- 

 ing from a three-day cruise of observation along 

 the Sound, I was solemnly apprised that Jim had 

 taken sick. He had refused all of their proffered 

 food; his aggressiveness was gone, and he spent 

 the entire time sulking in the darkest corner of the 

 tank. 



Followed by my anxious family, I straightway 

 went into the laboratory to see for myself the 

 cause of their concern. It was true, as they had told 

 me, he was lethargic; but I had my own suspicions 

 as to whether he was really sick. Not wishing, how- 

 ever, to raise false hope — for I was not too certain 

 myself — I said nothing, but I set about to seek 

 the meaning of it all. This meaning I finally found. 

 As the evening wore on, I continued to watch. And 



[228] 



