ROUND THE YEAR 



"MAN SIEHT NUR WAS MAN WEISS." 



Jan. 4, 1895. As I light my lamp, and sit down to 

 write, a cold north-east wind is whistling round the 

 house. Thin snow whitens the hills, except where 

 the woods and hedges stand out as black patches and 

 lines. The river Wharfe and the little brooks which 

 flow down from the moors are edged with ice. The 

 sun has just set. To-day the moon completes her 

 first quarter, and is now high in the clear sky. Mars 

 is faintly shining in the south, not far from the moon, 

 and in the east I see Jupiter. In another hour 

 Jupiter will be brilliant indeed. 



The earth seems still, and cold, and dead. Yet 

 there are living things hidden everywhere around. 

 This morning my boys found a live caterpillar of the 

 Yellow Underwing, lying helpless on the snow, driven 

 out, perhaps, from its underground retreat by the cold. 

 The experienced collector can find plenty of pupae, 

 even in the depth of winter. They are hidden away 

 beneath wall -copings, on palisades, beneath loose 

 bark, in moss, or underground. A keen eye is wanted 

 to distinguish them, for their colouring is strongly 



