104 COLLOQUIA ENTOMOLOGICA. 



and Ambulator, and a few more of the right stamp to have a 

 peep at. It would be far too wild and strange a concern for the 

 scientific world : they would turn up their noses at it, until they 

 exhibited to you what little brains they possessed through the 

 apertures. 



Ent. Too true : one must not say a word about natural 

 history with a smile oh one's face. Your scientific man must 

 always be as solemn as an owl, and as long-featured as . 



Erro. And, to add mental to personal beauties, as stupid 

 as the first, and as obstinate as the last. 



Ent. You and I hold a different opinion; yet, Roey, I 

 often think that, as we pass along through life, we ought to 

 erect here and there by the way-side some little mark, just to 

 show others where we have been: — " There lived a man" is but 

 a poor memento. 



Erro. And yet how many spend a long life without per- 

 forming one act entitling them even to the name of man. But, 

 my friend, you are sure of a name ; you have erected, even now 

 in your early years, a monument, ^' peretmior cere" Content, 

 aye, happy should I be, could I but grave my name thereon, 

 ever so humbly, that the two names might drift together down 

 the tide of time to the ocean of eternity, with the same unity 

 our kindred spirits enjoyed while here. 



Ent. Roey, ar'n't we getting a little bit sentimental and 

 stupid ? Come, come, what a deal of time we've been fooling 

 away here — -eh! Rocky, my man, — hark, hark! yoicks ! {the 

 beagle, seated on his tail, gives tongue) there's a mellow note ! 

 You must stay and pay the reckoning. Rocky. Three— recol- 

 lect — don't cheat. I shall stick a cigar in my face ; won't you, 

 Roey? 



Erro. Not altogether fooled away. This half-hour's talk, 

 however trivial, will add yet another link to the golden chain 

 of memory, which, like an enchanted girdle round my thoughts, 

 serves to cheer many an hour, that without its aid would be 

 utterly miserable. 



Ent. Happy the man, Roey, the chain of whose memory 

 has none but golden links. He, at least, need never talk of 

 misery ; his cares must be all ideal. Here goes. {Leaps through 

 the open window.) 



Erro. Cleverly done, indeed. I must try. 



{Exit in same style.) 



