ISO 



THE GUIDE TO NATURE. 



both, of their fellowmen also — bent their 

 heads. 



It was a balmy day of early autumn, 

 and high above them, in the topmost tier 

 of galleries, a window was open. 

 Through that window came a splendid 

 butterfly of the species which Gibson was 

 seeking, and circling downward, as if 

 looking into the alcoves of each gallery, 

 it came at last to the lowest floor, sailed 

 fearlessly into Air. Bardwell's alcove and 

 passing between the two bowed heads, 

 alighted on the page before them by the 

 side of its portrait ! 



.Mr. Gibson himself told me this story, 

 and we who were his summer neighbors 

 in Connecticut could have matched it 

 with other instances of the fearless confi- 

 dence with which all living creatures 

 seemed to regard him. lint in this case 

 the butterfly denizen of the air was not 

 afraid of Mr. Bardwell either, and the 

 whole scene has remained in my thought 

 as that of a benediction descending upon 

 two pure and gentle souls ! 



Remembering that the butterfly is the 

 radiant Christian symbol of resurrec- 

 tion and new life, may we not fancy that 

 over this refined, absorbed student of the 

 truth of the Soirit in books, the Spirit 

 itself, the real Life Eternal, hovered 

 until at last it alighted before his eyes, 

 to take forevermore the. place of all im- 

 perfect and transitory copies of it?" 



The following number (May) of the 

 same publication contains this letter : 



THAT BUTTERFLY STORY. 



To the Editor of The Chimes: 



I mean the story Mr. Gibson told Dr. 

 Raymond, which Dr. Raymond repeated 

 at Mr. Bardwell's funeral, and which is 

 reproduced in April "Chimes." 



Had it not come straight and from so 

 straight-speaking a man as Mr. Gibson 

 was, many would think it some story- 

 teller's waking dream. I can, however, 

 pretty nearly match it by something in 

 my own experience. 



v () u k'-io 1 -- 1 10 \ V enthusiastically the 

 last fifteen years of Mrs. Ballard's life 

 were devoted to the study of butterflies 

 and moths. Naturally, 1 wished that a 

 butterfly should be one of the emblems 

 carved on her monument; not for that 

 reason only, but also because the beauti- 

 ful winged creature is a type of that 



marvelous change at death in which, as 

 in a glorious immortality, she was so 

 confident a believer. 



Well, one day my artist showed me a 

 butterfly which he had succeeded in cap- 

 turing for me. "No," I said, "that is 

 not the kind I want and you must wait 

 until I find one." None appeared, and it 

 began to look as though I were to be 

 disappointed in my wish, until, standing 

 by the grave of one who had been one 

 of Mrs. Ballard's dearest friends and 

 while looking at the tall vase of flowers 

 there, a butterfly just such as I desired 

 came flying over my shoulder from be- 

 hind me and lighted on the flowers in 

 front of me. I caught it, took it to the 

 sculptor, and here it may be seen carved 

 on my butterfly-lover's monument. 

 Sincerely yours, 



Addison Ballard. 



Pittsfield, Mass., April 14, 1908. 



THE ALL COMPRISING. 



I once advertised in two Stamford 

 newspapers that I desired to purchase 

 wood snails and bullfrogs. The number 

 and variety of natural history specimens 

 brought forth by the advertisements 

 would do credit to a local museum — but 

 with two exceptions — there were no 

 snails and no bullfrogs. Young and old 

 evidently ransacked all local creation for 

 "bugs an' things" and "varmints" and 

 "creeters." In a way, I appreciated the 

 promiscuous offerings for I am a firm be- 

 liever that "everything is 'fish' that comes 

 to the net of a naturalist." 1 was glad 

 to know the reputation that I had in the 

 mind of the local public as to my interest 

 in "the heavens above, the earth beneath 

 and the waters under the earth." 



However, much as I appreciate this ev- 

 idence as well as the heterogeneous and 

 promiscuous collection, the drawback was 

 that neither of the two classes which I 

 wanted for a special use was represented. 



I questioned the army of hunters and 

 found only one who had any idea of a 

 wood snail, and he, I learned, had a con- 

 fusion of ideas about snails and slugs. 

 1 questioned and instructed and the army 

 went forth once more, but I have not yet 

 a snail. 



To my intense astonishment, not one 

 of the searchers knew what a bullfrog 



