A WOOLLY FLOCK 23 1 



of some sort." In this case the haphazard ver- 

 dict happens to be the literal truth, though the 

 speaker little suspects how closely he has discrim- 

 inated. But his present skill is easily accounted 

 for when we remember that only yesterday he 

 had a great deal to say about "June -bugs" and 

 "lightning-bugs." He will tell you all about 

 " lady - bugs," too, and "rose -bugs," and "horn- 

 bugs," and "pinch-bugs" — and has he not often 

 given his strong opinion on "potato-bugs"? — not 

 one of which insects is in the least entitled to 

 the name of " bug." Only this very morning he 

 asked me if I was "as fond of goin' buggin' as I 

 used to be." But to the granger laity the ento- 

 mologist is always a " bug-hunter," even though 

 no single species of a bug is to be found in his 

 entire insect cabinet. 



What, then, is a bug, and why is the discrimina- 

 tion of " bugs of some sort " so truly applicable to 

 this brood with the snowy wool which grows 

 upon the alder twigs ? 



The term "bug" has almost become a popular 

 synonym for " insect." All bugs are insects, 'tis 

 true, but it by no means follows that all insects 

 are bugs. The " squash-bug " is almost the only 

 insect that is known by its true title in the popu- 

 lar vocabulary, for this disgusting insect is in 

 truth a typical bug. 



But who would ever think of calling the whiz- 



