HUMOURS OF INSECT LIFE 



flies. Passing some large trees in the hedgerow, I 

 notice on the trunk a number of Vanessa butterflies. 

 Just as with the little Blues, the colours on the under- 

 side of the larger insects are similar to those of their 

 surroundings. A Painted-Lady, resting on a broken 

 branch, seems like a patch of lichen ; while, near by, a 

 Peacock, with closed wings, looks like a charred stick, 

 and is scarcely distinct from the shadow in the crevice 

 on the edge of which it rests. 



Presently, enticed by the gentle warmth, the butter- 

 flies leave their hiding-places, for the flowers are full 

 of honey and await their coming. They flit idly about 

 the blossoms, but their favourite resort is a clump of 

 valerian, on the crimson crowns of which three or four 

 of them bask, with spread wings, and probe between 

 the clustered petals. Not only the big Vanessas love 

 the sweet juices of the valerian. A little Copper flits 

 down from the oaks and drives away a Peacock from 

 the flowers ; then, while her studded fans reflect on their 

 burnished scales the brightness of the morning, she 

 enjoys a sumptuous feast. Soon the Copper butterfly 

 is pursued by an eager mate. Coyly, with trembling 

 wings, she resists his advances, but the ardent admirer 

 pursues her to the edge of the valerian ; then they flit 

 into the air, and gambol round each other till, rising 

 higher and yet higher, they disappear over the tops 

 of the oaks. 



105 



