THE MAGIC OF THE SEASONS 147 



ground, rather than settle upon a wayside flower, but to see the 

 Ringlet to advantage one must saunter where the Bramble is 

 in blossom, for which this Butterfly shows great liking. It is 

 not a strong flier, and is easily observed, fluttering in front of 

 one as if a leisured existence was more enjoyable than hurry- 

 scurry. 



To find the Meadow Brown, a hayfield, decked with a luxuriance 

 of grasses and other wild flowers, should be visited, a resort also 

 relished by the Skipper, which has a habit of settling clumsily 

 upon herbage in a lackadaisical way, reminding the onlooker of 

 a moth rather than a butterfly. 



At night time moths and other insects hold high revel, and at 

 such time the magical effect of darkness 

 becomes pertinently manifest when one 

 rambles along a country lane. There, one 

 will hear the drowsy hum of the Dor Beetle 

 as it pursues its nocturnal wanderings, and, 

 if the door, or window, of the house be left 

 open, it is most interesting to take note of 

 the strange visitors which will be lured 

 inside by a strong light. One hears a 

 whirring, a sudden collision, and a fall. 

 On stooping down to ascertain the 

 identity of this uncanny creature of the FIG . 67. COCKCHAFER. 

 night, one may discover the dismembered 



body of a Cockchafer. It is a Beetle, inseparably associated with 

 a sultry evening in leafy June, and is dearly relished by two 

 other night revellers in the persons of the Bat and Nightjar. The 

 latter bird is one of the few species that gives voice after dusk, 

 and its vibrating song if such it may be called is of curious 

 utterance when listened to among the quiet woodland glades, 

 and open spaces, where this hairy-mouthed Summer migrant 

 passes the hours of darkness. It rests during the daytime, but 

 when the sun has heralded the last embers of a dying day, it 

 steals from its hiding place, and commences its aerial exploits 

 in pursuit of insect prey. It is difficult to follow its weird form 

 in the gathering gloom, but, if the light is good, the bird will 

 be seen to swoop with amazing swiftness, and every now and 

 again it brings its wide, clean-cut wings over its back, and bangs 

 them together with such effect that a loud noise, as if a pistol 

 shot had been fired, is produced. Then the bird ceases its insect- 

 catching, and rests upon a neighbouring Oak, crouching, length- 



