familial" little orange-colored bug, with black 

 spots on its back, that was crawling on the floor. 



"I s'pose you know what that is"? " he said. 



"Yes," replied the applicant, with conviction ; 

 "that is a Coccinella septempunctata." 



"Young man," was the rejoinder, "a feller as 

 don't know a ladybug when he sees it can't get 

 my vote for teacher in this deestrict." 



Now it happens that I also know the young 

 school-teacher of the above story. Indeed, I 

 fall in with him oftener than with either Mrs. C. 

 or Mrs. K. of the tickle-birds. He is college- 

 bred. He observes nature "scientifically," he 

 says. He knows what he knows, namely, that 

 Coccinella septempunctata is septempunctata and 

 not novemnotata. All he knows (and what else 

 is there to know?) is septempunctata and novem- 

 notata— the names of things, the places, parts, 

 laws, and theories of things. He is the text-book 

 naturalist. 



We have been afield together a few times, 



but I was never able to interest or surprise him, 



because there were no surprises left : he knew 



everything. He had dissected every flower, 



[170] 



