story, which, if I mistake not, was originally told by old Du Tertre of some American species. I have had the pleasure, however, of confirming its accuracy, at least in some points.
Looking at my Aquarium I saw that the Soldier was in a different Whelk-shell from his own. Both were surmounted, as I have said before, by the Parasitic Actinia, but a diversity in the colour of the tentacles rendered these distinguishable from each other at a glance. I shall call the Crab's own original Whelk, No. 1, and the other No. 2. My curiosity was excited of course, and I sat down to watch. The Crab kept fast hold of shell No. 1, by placing his walking feet within its aperture, all the time he was within No. 2. Presently he slipped out his plump posteriors from the new tenement, and in a moment popped back into his old one, which was indeed the larger of the two, and hobbled away.
The next day I saw the attempt renewed, and this time witnessed the procedure ab initio. The Soldier on his rambles blundered on a third Whelk-shell invested by the beautiful Adamsia, but untenanted. This he seized, rolled over, and turned about in all directions, feeling it in all parts, both within and without. The Adamsia he seemed not to like, and tried repeatedly to scrape it off the shell with his pincers, labouring hard at the work, though ineffectually: the rude operation appeared to produce little inconvenience to the soft and delicate, but tough-skinned Anemone, which withdrawing its tentacles, and contracting its body, offered a passive resistance to the persecutor. At length he was satisfied that the shell
