A BLACKBERRY BUSH IN AUTUMN. 187 



turn to its dwelling when the danger is over. Pick 

 one of the folded leaves, and the inhabitant gives no 

 sign of alarm. Open it carefully, and there is the 

 caterpillar inside, bright green, stretched out quite 

 straight, and pressed so tightly against the central leaf- 

 rib that at first sight it is not easy to discriminate 

 between the insect and the leaf. 



I noticed, on the same bush, two other curious in- 

 stances of protective resemblance. One was that of a 

 large tipula, one of those insects we collectively know 

 as daddy long-legs. Whenever these flies settled on 

 the bush, they invariably chose the flower-stalk as their 

 resting-place, so that their legs, wings, and bodies 

 became mixed up with the diverging lines of the 

 flower-stalks ; and if the eye were once taken from 

 them they could hardly be detected. 



The second instance was a much more singular one. 

 Great numbers of the common garden-spiders had hung 

 their wheel-shaped webs among the branches of the 

 bush. One was a very beautiful spider, with a bright 

 green body, so conspicuous, indeed, that I wondered 

 how it could ever escape observation. So I gave the 

 net a jerk, in order to alarm the spider. As soon as 

 she felt the jerk she left the web, ran along a plant to 

 the spot where two leaves sprang from the stem, 

 plunged into the angle formed by their junction, and 

 tucked away her legs under her. In this attitude her 

 green body looked so exactly like a small leaf-bud that 

 it was hardly possible to persuade myself that the 



