A FAIRY FAUNA 67 



act, and he usually does the right thing. He keeps 

 his hold on the bent when the wind beats, and when 

 after being plucked off he is replaced, he grasps it 

 firmly again ; finally, when tossed up, he flies away 

 and slants down until he touches the grass, then 

 fastens himself once more to a stem ; but there is no 

 doubt that he does it all unconsciously, like a person 

 in a hypnotic condition doing what he has been willed 

 to do. 



The little blue butterfly's habit of roosting on the 

 tips of the bents is, I imagine, advantageous, and may 

 be one cause of the abundance of this species. At 

 sunset, if you narrowly observe the ground in one of 

 those depressions or hollows where the grass grows 

 thickest and tallest, and which are the sleeping-places 

 of all the small butterflies and other diurnal insects of 

 the downs, you will be surprised at the number of the 

 rapacious species of various kinds to be seen busily 

 quartering the ground like so many wood-ants in quest 

 of prey. They do not climb to the tops of the smooth 

 slender bents, and the small blue is therefore safe from 

 them ; but it is a wonder that any of the skippers and 

 other species that creep into the shelter of the grass 

 should escape the multitude of insect foxes, cats, and 

 weasels prowling about in search of a meal. 



When all the small butterflies and diurnal flies and 

 beetles and the quaint goat-faced grasshopper have 

 gone to rest, the humble-bee is still at work. No short 

 day for him ! (It or her it ought to be, but let that 



