Je JUNE IN FRANCONIA. 
First came a lady, in excellent repute 
among the savants of Kurope and America 
as an entomologist, but better known to the 
general public as a writer of stories. With 
her, as companion and assistant, was a doc- 
tor of laws, who is also a newspaper propri- 
etor, a voluminous author, an art connois- 
seur, and many things beside. They had 
turned their backs thus unseasonably upon 
the metropolis, and in this pleasant out- 
of-the-way corner were devoting themselves 
to one absorbing pursuit, —the pursuit of 
moths.. On their daily drives, two or three 
insect nets dangled conspicuously from the 
carriage, —the footman, thrifty soul, was 
never backward to take a hand, — and 
evening after evening the hotel piazza was 
illuminated till midnight with lamps and 
lanterns, while these enthusiasts waved the 
same white nets about, gathering in geome-_ 
trids, noctuids, sphinges, and Heaven knows 
what else, all of them to perish painlessly 
in numerous “cyanide bottles,” which be- 
strewed the piazza by night, and (happy 
thought!) the closed piano by day. In this 
noble occupation I sometimes played at help- 
ing; but with only meagre success, my most 
