304 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 



Italia. At a distance it is most picturesque, and worthy the atten- 

 tion of an artist. At close quarters the illusion vanishes, and dirt 

 and gloom reign supreme. Being a festa the people were all at 

 home, and were very civil and courteous to us. On leaving the 

 village the path soon became very steep, and a typical little Sicilian 

 lad of about seven offered to show us the best waj up — he was going 

 to the " family " patch of grovmd where his father was feeding the 

 animals. We had to climb in some places, and presently my son, 

 who was first with his net, shouted to me there was a lot of 

 " marbled whites." I hurried up and just caught a glimpse of one 

 as it flew away, the rest had all gone. I recollected japygia and its 

 being always in a hurry, so we sat down and waited for the return of 

 the fugitives ; they presently returned, after having circled round, 

 coming up the hill to us. When captured they proved to be a very 

 large form of japygia. Higher up the path skirted a wheatfield, and 

 here we were puzzled by taking galathea almost as large as japygia. 

 On reaching the ridge of the slope we were on the wind was blowing 

 a gale, and we had to take shelter a few yards down the shady side, 

 where we were able to take both species in plenty. In the afternoon 

 we braved the gale, and descended into the next gorge by an almost 

 impassable pathway — only suitable for goats — to the village of 

 Artolia. Below the breeze was not felt, and we found ourselves 

 in the centre of the Sicilian silkworm industry. We were freely 

 admitted into the rooms to see the worms and cocoons, and an 

 attempt was made to initiate me into the art of buying ova, rearing 

 worms, and selling cocoons, in order to make a profit. At the same 

 time I noticed that one man was told off to follow us everywhere we 

 went, a duty he performed until he had seen us safely off in the 

 train. Well, a couple of foreigners with nets, who arrive by a goat 

 track down the mountain side, might well incur a little suspicion. 

 The dirty inns, dirtier tablecloth, and poor food, together with (to me) 

 unpalatable wine, will not attract me there often. 



Summer suddenly set in in the middle of June, bright sun and 

 intense heat, which lasted until I had had enough of it at the end of 

 the month, when I left for England. 



On June 16th we went to Gioja Tauro, Calabria, to spend the 

 week-end, the attraction being a good hotel — the nearest hotel south 

 is thirty miles, and north over fifty miles — between are only dirty 

 wine shops. Next day we visited the woods skirting the shore, 

 known as the " Bosco di Gioja Tauro and Rossana." The heat was 

 intense, and insect life in great abundance. The hair-streak ilicis 

 was flying by dozens, and the herbage swarmed with a green beetle, 

 while the small oak trees were denuded of leaves by various hued 

 larvae of monaclia. Giant heaps of dead green beetles at the side of 

 the path through the wood puzzled us until we learnt that the work- 

 people collect the beetles from the vines in the adjoining vineyards, 

 put them in narrow necked jars, cork them up, and next day, when 

 the beetles are asphyxiated, they empty them in heaps in the wood. 

 Owing to the oven-like heat our " bag " of butterflies was small, 

 perhaps the most interesting species being Melanargia galathea, very 

 large and very dark, approaching var. turcica. The following day 

 we rested during the heat of the day, and on June 18th I decided to 



