BUTTERFLIES. 55 



Laureate tells us, will "warble, eat, and dwell" 

 among the espaliers ; and the thrush, as Mr. Brown- 

 ing reminds us, "sings each song twice over" from 

 some blossoming pear-tree. Then the bees are 

 busy all summer long, rifling for themselves the 

 flowers, and setting for us the fruit. " The butter- 

 flies flutter from bush to bush, and open their 

 wings to the warm sun," and a peacock or red 

 admiral, or better still, a humming-bird moth, 

 is always a welcome guest. Only the other 

 day I heard a delightful story (I wish I were 

 satisfied that it was a fact) of a lady who got 

 some chrysalises of butterflies from Italy and 

 elsewhere, and, planting in a corner of her 

 garden the herbs and flowers in which they 

 most delighted, had hovering around, for many 

 weeks of summer, these beautiful strange visitors 

 from the south. 



One great charm of a garden lies in the cer- 

 tainty that it will never be the same two years 

 running. If we were only confident that each 

 year was to be precisely like the last, it may fairly 

 be doubted whether we could feel the same 



