But I hope you are going to choose some other title than "Institut transformiste," which implies that the Institute is pledged to a foregone conclusion, that it is a workshop devoted to the production of a particular kind of article. Moreover, I should say that as a matter of prudence, you had better keep clear of the word "experimental." Would not "Biological Observatory" serve the turn? Of course it does not exclude experiment any more than "Astronomical Observatory" excludes spectrum analysis. Please think over this. My objection to "Transformist" is very strong. [In August his youngest daughter wrote to him to find out the nature of various "objects of the seashore" which she had found on the beach in South Wales. His answers make one wish that there had been more questions.] Hodeslea, Eastbourne, August 14, 1891. Dearest Babs, 1. "Ornary" or not "ornary" B is merely A turned upside down and viewed with the imperfect appreciation of the mere artistic eye! 2. Your little yellow things are, I expect, egg-cases of dog whelks. You will find a lot of small eggs inside them, one or two of which grow faster than the rest, and eat up their weaker brothers and sisters. The dog whelk is common on the shores. If you look for something like this [sketch of a terrier coming out of a whelk shell], you will be sure to recognise it. 3. Starfish are NOT born in their proper shape and don't come from your whitish yellow lumps. The thing that comes out of a starfish egg is something like this [sketch], and swims about by its cilia. The starfish proper is formed inside, and it is carried on its back this-uns. Finally starfish drops off carrying with it t'other one's stomach, so that the subsequent proceedings interest t'other one no more. 4. The ropy sand tubes that make a sort of banks and reefs are houses of worms, that they build up out of sand, shells, and slime. If you knock a lot to pieces you will find worms inside. 5. Now, how do I know what the rooks eat? But there are a lot of unconsidered trifles about and if you get a good telescope and watch, you will have a glimpse as they hover between sand and rooks' beaks. It has been blowing more or less of a gale here from the west for weeks--usually cold, often foggy--so that it seems as if summer were going to be late, probably about November. But we thrive fairly well. L. and J. and their chicks are here and seem to stand the inclemency of the weather pretty fairly. The children are very entertaining. M-- has been a little complaining, but is as active as usual. My love to Joyce, and tell her I am glad to hear she has not forgotten her astronomy. In answer to your inquiry, Leonard says that Trevenen has twenty-five teeth. I have a sort of notion this can be hardly accurate, but never having been a mother can't presume to say. Our best love to you all. Ever your loving Pater. Hodeslea, Eastbourne, August 26, 1891. Dearest Babs,