HOW I BECAME A NATURALIST 7 



everything in the opening chapter of my career. Even thus 

 early I could fully appreciate, as I do now, the answer to the 

 question : What is the value of a Dragon-Fly's wings ? I quote 

 an unknown writer, " Mome Rath," from the Saturday West- 

 minster thus : "It depends who is estimating. To some they 

 are worth nothing. Others count them false treasure, as a syren's 

 voice, or the glimmer of Will-o'-the-Wisp, or the iridescence upon 

 foul water. To me they are more precious than the Tate Gallery, 

 of equal value with a dew-hung Spider's web at dawn, and not 

 as valuable as laughter." 



FIG. 2. DRAGON-FLY ON WING. 



It seems as regards myself that my Nature christening took 

 place within sight of the mossy cradle and bright blue eggs of 

 that Mark Tapley among birds, the homely Hedge Accentor. 

 I must have been at least six years of age when I was held aloft 

 to peep inside the snug family nursery of the bird just mentioned, 

 and, since that auspicious hedgerow incident, I have gone steadily 

 forward with a stout heart and an incessant craving for intimacy 

 with living things. 



As a boy I was taken into the woods and fields, primrosing, 

 cowsliping, and daffy-down-dillying, and I hope and believe that, 



