JULY 



The Enchanted Eve 



JUNE did not close without one enchanted 

 evening. At ten o'clock at night, the air dead 

 calm, light enough was left for the poppies to 

 dabble the edge of the cornfield blood-red ; and this 

 red had scarcely turned to black half an hour later, 

 when something of the after-glow of sundown was 

 still in the west. Previous to this, quick-shifting 

 scenes, wonderful in colour and calm, led up to the 

 breathless night. Whole sorrelled fields, struck side- 

 ways by the mild evening sunlight, appeared pink as 

 sainfoin. An hour or two later was the time to go 

 into the meadow grass to watch for the last time 

 this summer the dancing of Humulus, the ghost 

 moth. 



No ball-room of artifice could compare in 

 pageantry with that of the ghost moths at the close 

 of June. Since we watched " the dancers dancing 

 in tune " a week ago, in the same place, the meadow 

 seems to have passed into quite a fresh phase. 

 Where whole acres were dusted at the tips with 

 purple or yellow pollen, we now see little forests 

 of the flossiest, most delicate grass heads, with grey 

 the predominating colour. Such was the dancing 



155 



