114 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 
as one of the worst on record. The rainfall exceeded the average of 
the last fifty years by nearly three inches, and the prevalence of 
strong and chilly winds, chiefly from some northerly quarter, with 
comparatively little sunshine, put a sudden check on the rapid 
advances made by all Nature during the mild if somewhat un- 
pleasantly damp weather of the first two months of the year. The 
28th was perhaps the worst day of the month, the whole country 
being swept by a northerly gale, accompanied by heavy snow-storms, 
and although the south-eastern counties did not get the full brunt 
of the storm, it was even there sufficient to fell trees and dislodge 
slates and chimney-pots by the hundred. We, at Eastbourne, were 
late in receiving our share of it, for although it had been blowing 
hard and cold all day the rain did not commence till evening, but it 
then fell heavily, and during the night changed to snow, and on the 
morning of the 29th we awoke to a white world, and so cold was it 
in the early hours that the surface of all still water was frozen over. 
The storm had passed, but the 30th and 31st were cold, dull days 
with a light easterly breeze. April opened with a hazy morning, 
but the sun soon broke through, bringing a comparatively mild 
spring day, and I set out for a walk over the downs. As I passed 
by the side of a small wood, which gave shelter from the breeze. 
which continued easterly and light, a butterfly, evidently a Vanessid, 
flew rapidly past, but I was unable to identify the species; on my 
return, however, a couple of hours later, several specimens of Aglais 
urtice were on the wing at the same place; at least half a dozen of 
them were seen, flitting about or sunning themselves on the bare 
ground, and one naturally concludes that in this instance the warm 
sunshine had brought them forth from their hibernating places in 
the wood. Sunday the 2nd was an even finer day, and as I walked 
along the parade in the morning sunshine, a solitary Macroglossa 
stellatarwm was hovering along the stone wall and then seeking the 
few flowers that were already blossoming on the banks above. In 
my garden Cyanzrts argiolus put in an appearance for the first time 
this year, the Huonymus hedges, for some reason not easily apparent, 
having a great attraction for them. And in the afternoon, as we sat 
in the garden basking in the sunshine and sheltered from the wind, 
Aglais urtice suddenly appeared over the hedge that separates us 
from the neighbouring garden nearer the sea, then another, followed 
by others; they sported in the air, they rested on the gravel path 
spreading their wings to the sun, and then passed on. It is impos- 
sible to say how many we saw, but I should estimate at least a 
dozen. The first one was seen at about a quarter past three and 
before half past they had all disappeared, and no more were seen 
that afternoon, although the sun continued to shine brightly until 
he dipped behind the downs some hours later. One wonders whence 
they came, and whether the same impulse, whatever it may have 
been, actuated the movements of both MM. stellatarwm and A. urtice, 
but it is significant that the latter appeared to be unusually rare in 
this neighbourhood last autumn, while of the former exceedingly few 
specimens were seen. But whatever may be the underlying causes 
of such happenings, it is interesting to know that a couple of fine 
