214 AN ANGLER AT LARGE 



very hard to take in perfect condition. The 

 brambles among which they fly, knock their wings 

 to pieces. (A Silver Washed Fritillary is on its 

 upper side a ravishing arrangement in sepia, raw 

 sienna, and black. Beneath, it defies description. 

 It's name is the simplest and best.) Yes, the 

 brambles knocked them about. He evidently 

 resented the creation of brambles. He looked 

 forward to his trip to the New Forest, due in a 

 few weeks. The Silver Washed should be out 

 by then. He had only twenty, and very few 

 varieties. He seemed to lick his lips. Speaking 

 of Fritillaries, last year he took the Duke of 

 Burgundy (this is one of those adorable little 

 butterflies which will presently be worked out). 

 Seventeen he and his friend had in half an hour. 

 And though they returned again and again to the 

 spot, they never saw another. I suppose they 

 were, as far as that place is concerned, worked out. 

 He complained that the White Admirals were 

 getting scarcer each year. Now God, when He 

 made the underside of the White Admiral, took 

 His colours from the utterly lovely dawn which 

 must have ushered in the sixth day of Creation. 

 And the Little Blue (a tiny bit of the sky, mur- 

 derers !) he hadn't seen a Little Blue for three 

 years. The last time he encountered it rising 

 all round him they were he took thirty. Thirty 



