THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 45 



by this 01- any olher moths during the past or in any previous 

 year, and so prevent such eggs becoming caterpillars, for it is 

 as such they have done the injury. 



" Of course, whatever is used as a remedy must not per- 

 manently do injury to the grass, nor damage any linens 

 which may hereafter be exposed thereon ; and, as the extent 

 of ground to be operated upon is so considerable, it is 

 important that the stuff should be as inexpensive as possible 

 to insure the complete destruction of moths'-eggs, &c. 



" Hoping you will give the matter your careful considera- 

 tion, — 1 am yours faithfully, " Wm, Eccles." 



[In the first place, I may state that the caterpillars, of 

 which I have still a nimiber under my notice, are those of a 

 familiar but not very common moth, well known to entomolo- 

 gists as the ruby tiger (Arctia rubiginosa). At present 

 (December) they seem to be hybernating on the inner side 

 of the flower-pot in which they are confined, covered only by 

 a piece of gauze, and are perfectly stationary, neither 

 requiring food nor exercise. At p. 140 of the 'Entomologist' 

 I gave a complete life-history of the insect, — of course not 

 mentioning the delinquency in respect of linen-cloth, of 

 which I was totally ignorant, and believe to be entirely 

 exceptional. I will, however, repeat some of the salient 

 points, as they may possibly assist my correspondents in the 

 North of Ireland in pointing out the insect to their neigh- 

 bours, and warning them of the injury it has already done in 

 the bleach-fields. The life-history will be found in extenso 

 in No. 33 of the ' Entomologist.' 



The parent moth lays its eggs (from thirty to forty in 

 number) on the leaves of the broad-leaved plantain (Plantago 

 major), and also on several species of dock and sorrel : these 

 hatch, and become caterpillars in about fourteen days. They 

 are covered with small, stiff, reddish hairs; and as they 

 crawl up the plantain or dock leaves, or climb the bents or 

 blades of grass, they remind one of miniature bears; in fact, 

 they ascend a blade of grass just as a bear mounts the pole in 

 the Zoological Gardens. But when they are still younger, 

 and not yet possessed by a rambling or climbing spirit, — 

 indeed, while they are quite babies, — they keep on the under 

 side of a dock-leaf or plantain-leaf, or, in captivity, of a 



