BY EDWARD DOUBLEDAY. '^1 



Now as to the mode of spending my time. I am up between 

 five and six, sometimes earlier, spreading the Lepidoptera that 

 I have taken over night ; when this is done I take a short 

 walk, — breakfast at eight, — out again till noon, — dine at two,— 

 read in the porch, or spread insects, during the heat of the day, 

 and then out again till dusk; then take tea, and then light up the 

 bar-room windows to catch moths. Last night we took out the 

 sash, and had two lamps burning, one of which, however, was 

 moved to another room, R. Foster and one of our friends 

 going to watch it, while the other remained with me. At 

 present the moths are not numerous, but my friend Mr. Good- 

 here tells me that later in the season they are so numerous, as 

 well as Liicani, Melolonthw, &c., that they frequently sweep 

 out hundreds of a morning. What astonishes me is the great 

 number of species, compared with the number of individuals. 



The house stands all but in the woods, with a grass-plat in 

 front: on one side of the front is a piazza, and to the right an 

 old-fashioned Dutch porch ; here I love to sit with Mr. Good- 

 here and watch the birds, of which he is as fond as I am. 

 Close to the porch was a Robin's nest, not three yards from 

 our heads ; the old birds were continually flying backwards 

 and forwards, feeding their young, without exhibiting the least 

 fear of us, even though we sometimes amused ourselves by 

 firing at a mark with a rifle : at last we missed them, and, on 

 looking into the nest, found that all the young had been 

 killed. They have now built in a tree, so close to my window 

 that 1 could touch the nest with a walking stick. There are 

 numbers of Thistle-birds, Yellow-birds, Snow-birds, Song 

 Sparrows, &c. always about : the Snow-birds are as tame as 

 possible, they come into the porch to pick up the crumbs. 

 Under the piazza is a bunch of Aquilegia Canadeuse, to 

 which the Humming-birds often come : they look far more 

 lovely than I even had expected ; their flight is so exquisite, 

 and they hover so beautifully before the flowers, making, from 

 the motion of their wings, a most curious sound. There is 

 also a pair of King-birds about here, but I have not seen their 

 nest. I was much amused the other day by seeing one of 

 them attack a large hawk, apparently a buzzard ; his cry is 

 like that of our English Buzzard, and his flight the same. This 

 Hawk is a continued source of vexation to me, and I want 

 to shoot him, but he is too shy ; a few days ago he flew over 



