THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 13] 
with them, but simply placed the hive on the board with the 
entrance towards the bees, and wailed to see the result. 
They continued to run about the table for about half a 
minute as if bewildered, not knowing where to find the hive, 
when I beard a peculiar vibrating and buzzing sound pro- 
ceeding from the hive. In an instant all the bees faced 
about, with their heads towards the hive; and in half a 
minute not a bee was to be seen upon the table,—they had 
all marched into the hive in regular procession. The above 
sound appears to have been produced by the queen summon- 
ing her subjects to take possession of the hive in its new 
position, and they immediately responded to the call.— 
W. B. Clarke; 9, Marine Terrace, North Shields, May 
10, 1876. 
[This seems at variance with the observations of our best 
observers, who deny to bees the sense of hearing.— Edward 
Newman. | 
A Red-Leiter Day.—A red-letter day in this season of 
black frosts, white frosts, persistent north-easters and clouds 
of dust, is something to give us a little encouragement and 
raise our drooping spirits. Time present offers nothing to 
cheer the entomologist, for a long season to-morrow has not 
failed to be like to-day, so that it seems almost useless to 
look forward,—biting winds and chilling frosts still prevail. 
We must, therefore, solace ourselves with a thought of the 
past; and so a day which would not, in an ordinary spring, 
be considered worthy of a chronicle, starts forth into vivid 
remembrance, and seems to ask for a notice it would not 
otherwise obtain. While penning this I am recalling April 
4th,—a lovely day of an extremely pleasant week,—a day 
reminding us of a line of Horace :— 
“‘ Solvitur acris hyems, grata vice veris et Favoni.” 
The balminess of the atmosphere, after a succession of wind, 
snow and hail, induced me to pay a visit to some sallows in 
full blossom about four miles distant. Armed with lanterns, 
boxes, and a wide-spreading dusting-sheet, I set forth with 
three friends (two of whom are ‘correspondents of yours— 
Messrs. 8S. O. and H. N. Ridley) hoping for success,—at least 
in the number of our captures, if not in their rarity. Nor 
were we disappointed ; at every shake of the gold-coloured 
branches numberless catkins, and almost as many moths, 
