ENTOMOLOGICAL RAMBLES IN THE MIDLANDS. 83 



In summer, this spot possesses features of considerable beauty, and 

 abounds with living things. Now the wintry blasts have denuded the 

 trees, the reeds have been killed by biting frosts, and all is silent and 

 still, as if life had entirely deserted the place. No animated beings 

 but ourselves can be seen, not a bird flits from tree to tree, not a fish 

 can leap through the ice-bound pool, not even a midge survives to dance 

 fitfully in the chill air, and the less persevering Entomologists might 

 not unreasonably retire, saying they could see and find nothing. At 

 this stage it may not be amiss to "point the moral and adorn the 

 tale" by inculcating the importance of " patience and perseverance," 

 of a disposition to look beneath the surface of things, and not be 

 content with a merely superficial examination. Herein lies the secret 

 of success in this as in other pursuits. By means of the knowledge 

 acquired by close and accurate observation, one Entomologist will find 

 a store of insect treasures in a locality which a collector less informed 

 might visit a hundred times, without obtaining a single species of any 

 interest. But, bottling up our philosophy for a future occasion, let 

 us now to work. Shod with waterproof " Napoleons," and armed 

 with a strong jack-knife, we enter the bog with confidence as to our 

 apparently hopeless task. Standing in the inky, oozy quagmire, and 

 spreading a sheet of strong brown paper on one of the driest grass 

 clumps at our side, securing it by stones to prevent its being blown 

 away by the wind, we cut off one of the dead reeds close down to the 

 water, hold it over the paper, and strip it carefully, fold by fold, the 

 process being repeated ad libitum. Insects of many kinds tumble out, 

 the rude shaking they receive being evidently a great surprise to those 

 species that are not sufficiently dormant to be in a state of blissful 

 ignorance of what is going on. Saw-flies and Ichneumons wake up 

 from their torpor, and scramble helplessly about, twisting round and 

 round in the most comical manner. Centipedes drop upon the paper 

 like cats, with all their wits and all their legs in full operation. 

 Spiders of several sorts issue from their warm silken hybernacula, and 

 seem to resent our intrusion upon their snug privacy. Prominent 

 among these is Clubiona holosericea, a large, pale, silky species, very 

 beautiful, and likewise very ruthless, as indicated by the large 

 quantity of insect remains in the vicinity of its nidus. Amongst the 

 other occupants of the reeds are some lepidopterous larvae and pupae, 

 a few dipterous flies, and several bugs, the most abundant species 

 being Salda cincta. The Collembola (Spring-tails) are fairly repre- 

 sented, and even the delicate Aphis has survived the biting frosts, and 

 found a refuge here. Coleopterous insects (beetles) are most 

 numerous, and comprise representatives of nearly all sections of the 

 order. Conspicuous amongst them is the fine and comparatively rare 

 Ancfwmenus puellus, a species unknown to this district until I had the 

 pleasure of adding it to our lists last year. It is an elegantly-formed 

 beetle, pitchy-black, with brownish legs, and has a more slender 

 thorax than any of its allies, which, from its fancied resemblance to a 

 girl's waist, has, I suppose, led to its being named •puellus. Generally 



