A Race after a Butterfly 
my way of thinking its proper location is near A. rupestris. It 
certainly reveals but small affinity to the species of the Eurynome- 
group. 
Besides the species of Argvnnis enumerated in the foregoing 
pages and delineated upon the plates, there are several others of 
more or less doubtful validity credited to 'our fauna, and a num¬ 
ber of varieties which have received names. With all of these 
the more advanced student will become familiar as he prosecutes 
his researches, but it is not necessary to speak of them here. 
A RACE AFTER A BUTTERFLY 
There is much that is pleasing about “first things.” I shall 
never forget the first dollar I earned; the first trout I took with 
my fly; the first muskalonge 1 gaffed beside my canoe on a still 
Canadian lake; the first voyage I made across the Atlantic. ' So I 
shall never forget my first capture of a female specimen of Ar¬ 
gvnnis diana . 
My home in my boyhood was in North Carolina, in the village 
of Salem, famous as one of the most successful of the settlements 
made by the Moravian Brethren under the lead of the good Count 
Zinzendorf, and well known throughout the Southern States as 
the seat of an excellent seminary for young ladies. The Civil War 
broke out, and the hopes cherished of sending me North to be 
educated were disappointed. I was left to pursue my studies 
under a tutor, and to roam the neighborhood in quest of insects, 
of which 1 gathered a large collection. 
One day I spied upon a bed of verbenas a magnificent butterfly 
with broad expanse of wing and large blue spots upon the secon¬ 
daries. In breathless haste I rushed into the house and got my 
net. To the joy of my heart, when I returned to the spot, the 
beauty was still hovering over the crimson blossoms. But, as I 
drew near with fell intent, it rose and sailed away. Across the 
garden, over the fence, across the churchyard, out into the 
street, with leisurely flight the coveted prize sped its way, while 
I quickly followed, net in hand. Once upon the dusty street, its 
flight was accelerated; my rapid walking was converted into a 
run. Down past the church and — horribile dictu !— past the 
boarding-school that pesky butterfly flew. I would rather have 
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