THE FAERY YEAR 



her, after she had danced for a few minutes, tumble 

 into the grasses, and, climbing up one of them, 

 hook on. Her way of sitting out the rest of the 

 dance was peculiar. She simply hung by the tip 

 of one leg, and yet her hold did not give way when 

 the grass was plucked, held up, and shaken slightly. 

 In this position she appeared so like a dead moth 

 which some wicked spider had caught and sucked 

 dry, and left swinging, that for a moment I doubted 

 if I had plucked the right grass. A very curious 

 and accidental mimicry of death this ! I have seen 

 a small crane fly present a similar appearance, 

 though it carried its wings, whilst so hooked by a 

 single leg-tip, in a different way from the ghost 

 moth, rather like a broad V. The lovely white 

 plume moth at rest arranges its wings in the same 

 fashion as a crane fly. This flaccid little thing will 

 alight after each flutter of a few yards along the 

 hedge bank, and hook on for repose. 



A Trout's Recreation 



The intelligence and emotions of even the most 

 observed fresh-water fish are a very obscure subject. 

 The real, inner life of a fish is dark even to the 

 angler-naturalist. Pike and trout are probably the 

 two fish whose habits we know best. In clear 

 streams the angler spends long summer days watch- 

 ing sometimes closely the conduct of trout ; yet 



