A BLACKBERRY BUSH IN AUTUMN. 195 



when the wind has fallen the sky has been cloudy, 

 often raining, and the barometer has fallen. However, 

 the very fact of the windy weather has brought out 

 some insect faculties in a way that could not have been 

 observed during a calm. 



For example, the splendid peacock and red admiral 

 butterflies whirl by us, making a circle or two round 

 the bush as if tempted by its flowers or fruit most 

 likely the latter, and are then carried off by the breeze 

 as if any number of blackberries were not worth the 

 trouble of fighting the wind. 



A deep ominous hum and a yellow streak in the 

 air. Another hum and another yellow streak. These 

 are hornets, the last survivors of their community. 

 They have a nest somewhere in the grounds and are 

 going straight to it. In a week or two more not a 

 hornet will be found in the nest, though some females 

 will survive in the winter, hung up somewhere, in bat 

 fashion, by the claws of their hind legs, eating nothing, 

 and scarcely breathing at all until the succeeding 

 spring-tide releases them to a brief period of activity. 

 Never a male hornet lives through the winter. He is 

 not wanted and therefore does not exist in a world 

 which tolerates no idlers. 



Still the ichneumon flies are prowling about, and 

 chief among them is that large, pale yellow species, 

 with its long antennae and sickle-shaped body, which 

 is called, scientifically, Ophion luteum. Looking to 

 the usual habits of ichneumons, it is rather a night flier 



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