The Whelk, _Buccinum undatum_, another of the snail-like Molluscs of our coasts, which is considered good eating by the lower orders, and often seen on fish-stalls at particular seasons, is well worthy a place in our miniature sea; especially under certain circumstances, when the shell of this creature assumes a most singular aspect, well calculated to excite the wonder of the young naturalist. It is sometimes found surmounted by a mass of living substance, which might be taken for the body of the creature, residing in preference on the roof of its dwelling during the summer months, as it may be observed spreading a set of tentacles, from a mouth-like orifice, for the collection of food. Within, however, a pair of protruding eyes are seen glaringly on the watch for prey, and another set of food-clutching machines may be noticed beneath them, ready for their work, and only awaiting the opportunity. They look much like the claws of a lobster, and if any suitable object comes within their reach, it is seized by one or both of these two-fingered hands, and carried to the yawning mouth beneath; but before it reaches that evidently impatient receptacle, a brightly-shining crimson finger, ornamented with two white stripes, darts from beneath those claws and mouth, and, snatching away the rich morsel, disappears as suddenly as it came, leaving the expectant mouth and astonished claws both empty. The mystery of this seemingly compound creature having, as it were, a first-self living outside the house and getting a separate living, a second-self located in the front parlour, and prevented from eating its own dinner by a third-self residing in the back parlour, may be easily explained, now that the persevering observations of our naturalists have solved it. It is as follows:—