The Classification of Butterflies 



applied to them by different writers, but all such names rank as 

 synonyms according to the law of priority. 



Popular Names.— Common English nam^.s for butterflies are 

 much in vogue in England and Scotland, and there is no reason 

 why English names should not be given to butterflies, as well as 

 to birds and to plants. In the following pages this has been done 

 to a great extent. 1 have used the names coined by Dr. S. H. 

 Scudder and by others, so far as possible, and have in other cases 

 been forced myself to coin names which seemed to be appropri- 

 ate, in the hope that they may come ultimately to be widely 

 used. The trouble is that ordinary people do not take pains to 

 observe and note the distinctions which exist among the lower 

 animals. The vocabulary of the common farmer, or even of the 

 ordinary professional man, is bare of terms to point out correctly 

 the different things which come under the eye. All insects are 

 " bugs " to the vulgar, and even the airy butterfly, creature of grace 

 and light, is put into the same category with roaches and fleas. 

 Apropos of the tendency to classify as " bugs " all things which 

 creep and are small, it may be worth while to recall the story, 

 which Frank Buckland tells in his " Log-book of a Fisherman and 

 Naturalist," of an adventure which he had, when a school-boy, at 

 the booking-office of the London, Chatham, and Dover Railway 

 Company in Dover. He had been for a short trip to Paris, and 

 had bought a monkey and a tortoise. Upon his return from 

 sunny France, as he was getting his ticket up to London, Jocko 

 stuck his head out of the bag in which his owner was carrying 

 him. The ticket-agent looked down and said, " You will pay 

 half-fare for him." " How is that? " exclaimed young Buckland. 

 " Well, we charge half-fare for dogs." " But this is not a dog," 

 replied the indignant lad; "this is a monkey." "Makes no dif- 

 ference," was the answer; "you must pay half-fare for him." 

 Reluctantly the silver was laid upon the counter. Then, thrust- 

 ing his hands into the pocket of his greatcoat, Buckland drew 

 forth the tortoise, and, laying it down, asked, " How much do 

 you charge for this? " The ancient receiver of fares furbished 

 his spectacles, adjusted them to his nose, took a long look, and 

 replied, "We don't charge nothin' for them; them 's insects." 

 It is to be hoped that the reader of this book will in the end have 

 a clearer view of facts as to the classification of animals than was 

 possessed by the ticket-agent at Dover. 



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