'• SMILING MORN " 7S 



queting-table of the butterflies, is it not a duty to 

 provide substitutes for devastated natural vegetation ? 

 When it is discovered that a plant, introduced to give 

 satisfaction to the lust of the eye, provides from year's 

 end to year's end nectar as unfailing as the widow's 

 cruse of oil, is it not becoming to reproduce it plenti- 

 fully so that excited and virtuous insects may be en- 

 couraged to return to former scenes ? If not a duty, 

 at least it is a source of happiness, for the particular 

 insects which revel in the nectar of the perpetually 

 flowering shrub are the two most gorgeous butterflies 

 of the land — pleasantly known as Ulysses and Cassandra. 



Science changes its titles so frequently that unless 

 the intellect is to be increasingly burdened it is well to 

 refuse to be divorced from the old and often explicit 

 and fulfilling names. Cassandra is the lovely green- 

 and gold-fly which dances in the air so delightfully 

 when he woos his sober, fluttering mate. That of 

 gorgeous royal blue with black edging to the wings and 

 dandyish swallow-tails, which wanders far and wide 

 and flies high and swiftly, is Ulysses. 



This glorious morn the ruddy shrub is as lively as a 

 merry-go-round with the feasting and antics of flitting 

 gems, and there are others by the dozen attentive to 

 less seductive fare. For half an hour the courtship 

 of a perfect Ulysses has interfered with the staid ways 

 of those not in holiday humour. Unhke Cassandra, 

 there is little in appearance to distinguish the sexes, 

 nor in the wooing does the dame exhibit staid demeanour. 

 The object of Ulysses' love is almost, if not quite, as 

 brilliantly decorated as himself. She is not, therefore, 

 to be fascinated by the display of blue no more lustrous 

 than that of her own proud wings. He may flit and toss 

 about her, but she seems to take scanty notice of his 

 affected aerial limpings. Her raiment is just as brave, 



