150 THE ENTOMOLOGIST. 



trip, however, in Jul}^ after still harder work, and just on 

 the point of giving it up, I met with adults of both sexes. 

 Another rare and local species, Epeira angidata, Clerck, was 

 fairly abundant in the same locality ; and, in addition to many 

 other good things, I turned up a pretty little Philodromus new to 

 Britain, P. rii/us, Sim. 



In the July visit we did more among the Lepidoptera, taking 

 some good micros, a few of which are not readily met with else- 

 where. Tired out with beating the old thorns and oak-boughs, we 

 (my son, A. W. Pickard-Cambridge, and myselO threw ourselves 

 down on a shady bit of close-cropped lawn on the high ground 

 looking over towards Southampton and Beaulieu. Old gnarled 

 oak-trees stood out on all sides, anything like straight lines being 

 broken by clumps of oak, ash, beech, yew, thorn, and other lesser 

 undergrowth ; vistas of exquisite beauty opened out in various 

 directions, such as no landscape-gardener could even dream of, 

 still less achieve ; the sun shone brilliantly, the heat was great, 

 but there was up there a refreshing breeze. There we rested, 

 eating our sandwiches, and talking of those ancient times when, 

 may be, down that very bit of lawn, William Kufus and his 

 followers in hot pursuit of deer may have ridden. No sound was 

 to be heard excepting the hum of the humble-bee, the chirp of 

 the grassho]3per, and the gleeful clapping of leafy fingers among 

 the trees ; no human being was in evidence any more than if 

 none existed in the country. Well ! we did not see either the 

 red king or his ghost, nor yet any of the deer descended from his 

 herds — more's the pity that they are all gone; but as we sat and 

 munched and talked and pondered on things new and old, an old 

 fox trotted out close in front of us, and cantered leisurely down the 

 lawn and away. The conclusion was not sublime certainly, still 

 less was it ridiculous : we laughed ! I jumped up hastily : *' Oh ! 

 oh ! goodness gracious ! murder ! thieves ! " No, not thieves, 

 only emmets ! I had been sitting on what I thought a deserted 

 emmet nest ; but the spell of my presence, or the attraction and 

 weight of my person, had called up an unseen host from sub- 

 terranean regions, and I was covered with the little tickling 

 rascals. 



Yes, those were pleasant days there forty years ago, and more 

 than pleasant to revisit the old spot, and to experience in even a 

 greater degree than ever the anticipations, fulfilled and unful- 

 filled, the excitements, and the satisfactions of one of the most 

 absorbing of earthly pursuits, Entomology, pursued in one of the 

 grandest of British localities, the New Forest. 



Bloxworth Kectory. 



