198 THE PAINTED LADY BUTTERFLY. 



speed of an arrow ; yet returns, and with suspicious 

 vigilance continues its employ, feeding always on the 

 wing. Nature seems to have given this creature some 

 essential requisites for its safety ; its activity, when on 

 the wing, renders its capture difficult; and when it 

 rests, it is on a wall, the bark of a tree, or some dusky 

 body, that assimilates so nearly to its own color, as to 

 render it almost invisible, though watched to its settle- 

 ment ; and the larva is seldom found. We sometimes 

 see it enter our rooms, attracted by flowers in the open 

 windows ; but it seems to be immediately aware of its 

 danger, disappears in an instant, and is safe from cap- 

 ture. Wild and fearful as this creature is by nature, 

 yet continued gentle treatment will remove much of its 

 timidity, and render it familiar to our presence. Per- 

 fectly free from any annoyance as they are when ranging 

 from sweet to sweet on my borders, and accustomed to 

 a close inspection of all their operations, I have fre- 

 quently touched their wings with my fingers, while 

 hovering over a flower, and dipping their long tubes 

 into the corolla of a geranium : they would retire a lit- 

 tle, confused with such freedoms and interruptions, but, 

 experiencing no harm, they would return and finish 

 their meal, unmindful of such petty annoyances. I have 

 known this creature, like some other insects, counterfeit 

 death when apprehensive of danger, fall on its back, 

 and appear in all respects devoid of life when in a box ; 

 and, as soon as a fit opportunity arrived, dart away with 

 its usual celerity. 



On the blue heads of the pasture scabious (scabiosa 

 succisa) we occasionally see, toward the end of the 

 summer, the painted lady butterfly (papilio cardui) ; but 

 this is a creature that visits us at very uncertain periods, 

 and is vivified by causes infinitely beyond the. compre- 

 hension of the entomologist, seeming to require a suc- 

 cession and variety of seasons and their change, and 

 then springing into life we know not how. This was 

 particularly obvious in the summer of 1815, and the 

 two following, which were almost unceasingly cold and 

 rainy ; scarcely a moth or butterfly appeared. And in 

 the early part of 1818, the season was not less ungenial ; 



