APRIL, 1882. 



botanic garden to the mycologist has in a few days become 

 a hortus siccus without either beauty or interest, for the 

 innermost juices have been dried up, and scarce a sem- 

 blance of their former selves left. 



You can't do much on the water in a succession of 

 gales, but we did make an attempt to lower a dredge 

 these last two days, and the result was more agreeable to 

 the naturalist than to the " gourmet." Following upon 

 this we had swarms of specimens in odd dishes endea- 

 vouring to examine them singly, and careful that no 

 inveterate enemies should come together. In one small 

 dish was a specimen of Adamsia, sea anemone, in a shell 

 inhabited by a fine (Pagurus Prideauxii) hermit crab. 

 This we were carefully keeping for the anemone, looking 

 upon crabby as a very subsidiary party. At the last 

 moment we picked up another rare prize with us, in the 

 shape of a Fissurella Graeca, a limpet shaped shell with 

 a hole in the apex, and the whole creature much more 

 exposed to assault than the shore limpet, as the shell does 

 not properly cover the animal, whose curtain stands up a 

 good quarter of an inch all round clear of it. It so hap- 

 pened that this was dropped hurriedly into the dish with 

 the sea anemone, and other cares occupied the minds of 

 those interested. Later in the evening we were passing, 

 candle in hand, and took a view of the scattered creatures 

 in their various domains, so that we might catch them at 

 their more natural movements in the dark. The natural 

 movement of the hermit crab was at least apparent, as 

 the poor limpet was clinging despairingly to the side of 

 the dish, and the great claw of the crab had already made 

 a deep hole in the curtain as he tore the creature from 

 its hold. These fissured limpets are beautifully shaped, 

 but they have, of course, no security against depredators 



