1913.] REPORTS. 25 



bited a considerable amount of intelligence it was rather of 

 the cunning order. Generally it remained, during the day-time 

 at the entrance to its lair, between some musses of rock, watch- 

 ing for any unsuspecting crab to come its way. Occasionally 

 it would go for a promenade during the day, moving rapidly 

 about the tank and making frantic efforts to get the tip of 

 one of its tentacles over the top edge of the tank. Had it 

 succeeded it would doubtless soon have been out. It abso- 

 lutely refused to touch fish however hungry it was, but crabs 

 and molluscs generally were eagerly eaten — the former for 

 preference. The horny beak, by means of which, according 

 to some writers, it is able to break open even the hardest 

 molluscs, I never saw used for this purpose, and I doubt 

 if it ever is so used, or even is capable of breaking open a 

 shell. I found it used solely for eating food carried thither 

 by the tentacles. I never succeeded in making it discharge 

 the contents of its ink-bag. 



It seems strange that so lowly organize 1 a creature as an 

 Anemone should display any intelligence, for they are devoid 

 of any nervous system, and yet they exhibited decided likes 

 and dislikes as to their food. Crab, mussel, shrimp and 

 limpet were all readily eaten. Raw beef too they took freely 

 — though hardly a natural food. Mutton they did not care 

 for, and fish they Avould take only if! very hungry, and fre- 

 quently not even then. By what means they are able to 

 distinguish between different kinds of food it is at present 

 impossible to say, but it is evident that we are still far from 

 knowing all that there is to know about even the commonest 

 and simplest of our marine animals. 



F. L. Tanner, 

 Sec. Marine Zoology Section. 



Report of the Ornithological Section, 1013. 



The most interesting fact, as I think, to put on record in 

 this year's report, is the return of the Corncrake in larger 

 numbers. It is within my remembrance that some twelve to 

 fifteen years ago it was quite the usual thing when out in the 

 country on a summer's evening to hear the pleasant crake, 

 crake, of this bird quite commonly as one walked through the 

 lanes. And I well remember a gentleman, blessed with a 

 large grass field adjoining his garden, telling me more than 

 once what a perfect nuisance the monotonous call was to him. 

 One of these birds, it appeared, had taken up its residence 

 there, and night after night for more than one season it ceased 



