The Bluebottle; The Laying 



fine day in February, we shall see her warming 

 herself, chlllily, against the sunny walls. In 

 April, I notice her in considerable numbers on 

 the laurestinus. It is here that she seems to 

 pair, while sipping the sugary exudations of 

 the small white flowers. The whole of the 

 summer season is spent out of doors, in brief 

 flights from one refreshment-bar to the next. 

 When autumn comes, with its game, she 

 makes her way into our houses and remains 

 until the hard frosts. 



This suits my stay-at-home habits and espe- 

 cially my legs, which are bending under the 

 weight of years. I need not run after the 

 subjects of my present study; they call on me. 

 Besides, I have vigilant assistants. The house- 

 hold knows of my plans. Every one brings 

 me, in a little screw of paper, the noisy visitor 

 just captured against the panes. 



Thus do I fill my vivarium, which consists 

 of a large, bell-shaped cage of wire-gauze, 

 standing in an earthenware pan full of sand. 

 A mug containing honey is the dining-room of 

 the establishment. Here the captives come to 

 recruit themselves in their hours of leisure. 

 To occupy their maternal cares, I employ 

 small birds — Chaflinches, Linnets, Sparrows 



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