MY WATER-LOVERS. 31 



them in the seclusion of one part of this brook. 

 The lads were mightily interested in my dredging, 

 albeit they looked at me as though they expected 

 that I would begin a sermon on the evils of to- 

 bacco. But what is the use of scolding people 

 who are so evidently aware of their own sinful- 

 ness ? 



I refrained from criticism, and was rewarded 

 with a bit of information, false or true. A Va- 

 nessa of this sort flew by in the course of our 

 conversation, and the boys called it a Japanese 

 butterfly. They furthermore solemnly averred 

 that the Japanese ate them. One of the boys 

 even said that he had seen the Japanese do it, 

 pulling off the wings and devouring the body. 

 Whether the testimony of such youngsters is 

 worth anything or not, I leave the judicious 

 reader to determine, but certainly, if I were in 

 Vanessa's place, I should keep as far away from 

 both boys and Japanese as possible. 



When March is nearly over, there comes an 

 occasional Orange-tip butterfly to keep Vanessa 

 company. In March, too, one passes by the little 

 white-and-black kids that stand on the sides of 

 the brook and dance along its precipices or stay 

 in the safer green field by their mothers. 



Burton in his " Anatomy of Melancholy " tells 

 us that when Jupiter and Juno held their wed- 

 ding-feast all the other divinities were invited 

 and many noblemen besides, and among them 



