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wonderful production by his colleagues, and they did some good 
work by its aid, being the only book they possessed. At the 
present day it is worthless as a botanical work, and can only be 
treasured as a curiosity of days gone by, fully showing the dis- 
advantages these men laboured under in the early part of the 
present century. There were some keen naturalists in my early 
youth ; it was nothing to walk to Barron Wood—a distance of 
about twelve miles out and twelve in—for the purpose of sugaring 
for insects, after our day’s work was done, and after a night spent 
in the woods, to resume our occupation at six o’clock in the 
morning. Distance was no object at that time ; we have known 
parties of these old naturalists set off late on Saturday, walk all 
night to the Lake District, and spend all day on Sunday collecting 
plants, birds, and insects, and yet these enthusiasts had to walk 
back again, so as to commence work on Monday morning. Some 
of them were very clever men, real out-of-door observers, and who 
thought nothing of staying out all night for the purpose of close 
observation ; and if their information had only been given to the 
public, a mass of interesting knowledge would have been added to 
that already existing. Frequently we had the pleasure of joining 
with these old hands in some of their expeditions, and it was very 
interesting to hear them tell of their adventures in different parts 
of the district, it helped to wile away many a weary tramp in the 
dark as we were returning home. 
One notable event is impressed on my memory, it was the 
occasion of a severe thunderstorm, which overtook us on Blaze- 
fell, while we were searching for certain beetles. The brilliant 
flashes of lightning nearly blinded us. It was a magnificent sight, 
as flash succeeded flash, and lit up the surrounding country as 
bright as day, and the next moment was plunged into pitchy 
darkness, a darkness which could be almost felt, as the old saying 
goes. ‘The storm lasted about an hour and a half, and all the 
time we were trying to shelter behind a stone wall from the 
drenching torrents of rain, which poured down on our devoted 
heads in a perfect deluge. We lit that great consoler, our pipes, 
and enjoyed the fragrant weed under these damping circumstances 
: 
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