BRITISH BUTTERFLIES 



the clear, running stream. It is half choked now with 

 American pond-weed and with native water flora, 

 so that the waterfowl can only paddle about slowly. 

 But, through the sheltered nature of the place, the face 

 of the lake is glassy still ; it mirrors the woods and the 

 sky to perfection on a bright day. 



Each tree round the lake, with great ceiling of blue 

 and grey above, is doubled to a detail in a world below 

 water so that if, lying by the lake, I wish to study the 

 beauty of form and colour about the trees or clouds, it 

 can be done without raising the eyes. The floating 

 leaves of the water plants seem not in the least to inter- 

 fere with the reflection. All that is needed for faithful 

 representation of the sky and wood here is a glossy 

 smooth surface and a bright sun at the back of the 

 watcher. 



When the sun is out, the dragon of the wooded lake 

 is on the wing. As he flies to and fro across the centre 

 of the lake, sometimes settling on the rhododendron 

 islet in the middle, he may give one the idea of some 

 diaphanous bird, a bird of fairyland. His crystalline 

 wings, wafer-thin, flash in the sun, and at fifty, even a 

 hundred yards distance, we can get glimpses of the 

 bright blue of his body. This splendour is the Em- 

 peror of English dragon-flies, Anax imperator. 



He looks all sheen and pride ; and, for flight, it is 

 as if he enjoyed not so much mastery over the air as 



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