20 THE HOME OF A NATURALIST. 



The leg and foot of a fly, the armour-plates of a beetle, 

 the head of a spider, the wing of a bee, and many 

 other preparations of a similar sort, were closely in- 

 spected by us, and need I say how enraptured we 

 were with the marvels and beauty thus revealed. I 

 think we were most of all charmed with the wing of a 

 butterfly, to the minute and delicate feathers of which 

 our attention was specially drawn, and we were asked 

 if we could conceive anything more lovely. Many a 

 delightful story he wove of insect history and progress 

 to maturity, their loves and feuds, their campaigns and 

 cunning stratagems, their battles and doughty deeds and 

 hunting expeditions, which was as instructive as enter- 

 taining. Many an hour of the long winter evenings was 

 devoted to this sort of story telling. The early three 

 o'clock dinner over, the lamp not yet lit, the young 

 ones, boys and girls, would gather around the glowing 

 fire, and after a whispered consultation, one would 

 entreat, "Tell us a story, please do." "A story," 

 would be the reply. " Well, what shall it be about ? 

 Let me see — suppose I tell you the story of a famous 

 beetle, will that do ? " " Yes, yes, that will be capital," 

 would come from the eager audience. And then the 

 grave, sweet voice would begin. " Once upon a time 

 there lived a beetle " — and so for an hour or longer, 

 the history and adventures of that beetle, certain to 

 have "a local habitation and a name," would be 

 narrated in a manner so interesting and realistic that 

 our sympathies would follow him through every inci- 

 dent of his chequered career, moving us to laughter 



