A MIDSUMMER OUTING. 2 OI 



tion, and the lily was simply the hub of a wheel 

 with innumerable spokes. Soon, however, the 

 monotony was broken and my languishing inter- 

 est revived. There was a commotion in this 

 particular nook of lilydom. I cautiously drew 

 near, and found a noisy humming-bird ; then 

 nearer, and found it no bird at all, but a clear- 

 winged sphinx, and was not ashamed to find I 

 had made so great a mistake at the outset. 

 There is no great harm done in jumping at a 

 conclusion, if we follow it up and verify or cor- 

 rect the original impression. Certainly at a little 

 distance the resemblance is very marked. On 

 its appearance every near-by insect seemed to 

 take umbrage at the presence of the "clear- 

 wing," and the volume of sound was largely in- 

 creased. There was a change from a contented 

 hum to an angry buzz. This change was read- 

 ily brought about I found by agitating the lilies 

 with a switch, and so I realized, more clearly 

 than ever before, how by the increased velocity 

 of the wings' movements an insect would express 

 its emotions. For a time I forgot the heat and 

 the glare of the noontide sun, and, walking to 

 and fro, I roused at will an angry roar from 

 thousands of disturbed bees, or, by remaining 

 quiet, allowed it to settle into the drowsy hum of 

 contentment. 



But the unprotected tropic of that field of 



