WHEN THE SUN GOES DOWN. 141 



line from choice and not necessity. As to insect 

 life, well, the railway embankments are alive with 

 it. Some of our rare moths and butterflies can be 

 found there — in fact it is very little use looking for 

 them elsewhere : as to the beetles, their name is 

 legion. Life of some kind is ever on the move, at 

 all times and all hours, each creature knowing its 

 own appointed time. 



The heron, that grey fisher, is very busy when 

 the harvest moon is in the sky, for she lights up 

 his fishing quarters. So well is this known, that 

 where trout are preserved, strict watch is kept for 

 him, — not that he often comes to grief, for he is 

 wary. The behaviour of some folks has made him 

 so. He does not start his fishing early, for he only 

 gets well on the wing when the sun goes down. 



A storm of wind comes from the westward, — a real 

 westerly gale is rushing over the moor hills. The 

 firs sway, bend, and roar as the wind rushes through 

 them, so that you could almost fancy you were 

 listening to the breaking of the waves on a stony 

 beach when the gale sets dead inshore. So strong- 

 ly is the wind blowing, that where there is nothing 

 to' break its force the furze patches and heather 



