THE GLOWWORM 45 



September, when the fruits are of the full size. In the 

 following winter the old position is not quite recovered, 

 for there is a permanent droop, increasing at the rate of 

 about two inches per annum. 



All boughs of deciduous trees do not bend beneath the 

 weight of their summer leaves. On examining by super- 

 position winter and summer photographs of large boughs 

 of oak and beech taken from the same spot, I can discover 

 no deflection at all. The strength of the wood, and parti- 

 cularly of oak wood, may be one reason why the boughs 

 of these trees yield so much less than those of the lime 

 and sycamore ; the comparative lightness of oak-foliage 

 may be another. 



XL THE GLOWWORM. 



Many of us dwell with peculiar pleasure on our recol- 

 lections of the glowworm. Like the song of the nightin- 

 gale, it is not only a delight in itself, but has the magical 

 power of bringing back the time when we were young and 

 the whole earth was gay. The mere mention of the glow- 

 worm recalls some refulgent summer, 1887 or even 1868, 

 when the evening skies were obscured by no clouds for 

 many weeks together. We remember the soft greenish 

 lights among the mowing grass, or on sandy banks beneath 

 pine-trees. A few of us know the pleasure of tracing the 

 lights to their source, and of discovering the luminous 

 insect mounted on a tall grass-haulm or a leafy spray. 

 Those of us who dwell in cities, where glowworms are 

 rare, find no doubt more pleasure and excitement in the 

 spectacle than those who see them summer after summer, 

 but we are ill-placed for inquiring into the causes and 

 circumstances of the glow. If I were a leisured man and 

 lived in the country, I would make this a very special 

 hobby, and associate myself with the naturalists who are 

 endeavouring to elucidate interesting questions about the 



