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NOTES ON COLLECTING. 67 
A year or so ago I was returning from the Downs at Folkestone in the 
twilight, when my attention was arrested by a Barn Owl, which was 
hawking round a haystack near a farm. I went over to investigate 
and was surprised at the number of moths flying round the stack. 
On the following evening I returned from the Downs earlier and 
waited until it was dusk, when I had the satisfaction of seeing the 
moths actually emerging from the stack, which they used as their 
hiding-place by day. On another occasion, when on a bird photography 
expedition on the shingle beaches in Romney Marsh, I was spending 
the time before retiring for the night in wandering about in the twi- 
light in search of anything of interest. I came across a stack of 
faggots which were being used in the construction of a breakwater, 
and was surprised at the moths that were flying round it. I was able 
to catch specimens of Xylophasia monoglypha (polyodon) and Triphaena 
pronuba as they walked out from among the twigs of which the stack 
was composed and they were no doubt using this stack as a hiding- 
place.—C. W. Cotrurvp. 
ReEstTING ATTITUDE oF THE Lyc#nipm, ETc.—In The Hntomologist’s 
Record for January 1915, page 16, a reference is made to Mr. Frohawk’s 
suggestion that ‘the sleeping attitude of the Lycaenidae is with the head 
upwards, and that, although they take up their position in the early 
evening with head downwards, they turn round on the approach of 
darkness.” He further suggests that ‘‘in the preliminary position the 
butterfly is safer from a fatal attack by birds, while when no necessity 
for such a position arises, as in the dark, the natural position is 
assumed.” 
IT am sorry that, after careful observation, I cannot agree with this. 
I spent a considerable part of my holiday last year photographing 
butterflies in Abbott’s Wood, Sussex, and was able to observe their 
habits. What I believe to be the true solution of the head downward 
position is that they take up that position when they sun themselves 
in the late afternoon, and, as soon as the sun disappears, close their 
wings and seem to go into a state of torpor. Some go to sleep in that 
position, others move a little and turn round. They can be found in 
various positions long after dark. 
They are equally conspicuous in both positions and no more safe 
from attacks by birds in one position than the other. 
Rumicia phlaeas generally, but not always, sun themselves head 
upward. 
Stalking Melanargia galathea and Epinephele jurtina (janira) with 
a half-plate stand camera is no easy matter, and it took me two hours, 
with much hard work and chasing, before I succeeded in getting two 
snaps of the former feeding on a lesser knapweed head. The duration 
of its stay on each individual flower lasted anywhere up to three 
minutes while it worked round the edge of it. 
I eventually secured two photos of /. jurtina “sunning,” I should 
say the most wary of our British butterflies, even after sunset. 
E. tithonus was a much more civilised insect to photograph, and I 
cannot help thinking that its eyesight is not so keen as that of the last 
two species. While waiting for a specimen to expand I heard a rustle 
of wings, and, looking in the direction of the sound, was just in time 
to see a large dragonfly, Aeschna grandis I believe, strike at a butterfly 
and immediately drop it. The butterfly, a “ringlet,”’ walked about 
