What should we see but a little creature, grotesque and hideous, that made its way round in the water, with astounding celerity, throwing out legs or claws, or whatever they were, from every point of its circumference. Its body was flat and was a green color above and pink under, and to add to its alarming appearance, it looked at us with two black eyes, in a very sinister and uncanny manner. We looked at each other with blanched faces and speechless horror, and then kept a sharp lookout, lest it might take it into its head (we couldn't tell if it had any head, for the place where the eyes were, did not seem different from any other part of its body,) take it into its "internal consciousness," to crawl out on to the rocks and chase us. It got through the water in a distracting manner, which was really quite amusing after a few moments, and from being horribly frightened, we became interested when we found it did not attempt the offensive. We gave it some lunch and called it "Jack Deadeye," and for the whole afternoon he was the center of attraction. "Let us take him back with us," I proposed. "We can get him into a pail, and then we can have him in some pool nearer home, and see what he'll turn into. I don't believe but what he'll be something else in a few days." My knowledge of natural history had always been lamentably meager, and more than once I had brought the laugh upon myself by my ignorance. So I forbore to predict what would be his ultimate form of beauty. "A whale!" said Susie Champney. "Oh, dear, no; whales don't have legs and claws," said Estella Bascom. "It's a tadpole." "You're mistaken there," said Mamie Fitz Hugh; "tadpoles are just the little jokers that do have tails. I've seen hundreds of them, and this creature has no tail." We all rushed again to the edge of the rocks to look at him, with added wonder. "Well, we'll take that tad home on a pole, any way," said Nannie White, who was the cutest girl to say things in the whole crowd. She immediately ran off to secure a piece of drift that was tumbling about on the wet sand. But how to get him into a pail was the next problem. A committee of the whole was called. I thought we could obstruct his path by putting the mouth of the pail in front of him, and then when he sailed into it, we could instantly pull him out. This was decided upon; but how to get it down to him without falling in? A bright idea struck me. I whipped off my flannel sash, and running it through the handle, dashed it into the water; but that proceeding only frightened him--we must move more cautiously. We worked for an hour and had him in twice, but were so excited both times that he escaped.