For a week thus we idled, now 

 on the mountain, now in the meadow, 

 while I, with my sketch-book and col- 

 lecting-box, either whiled away the 

 hours with my pencil, or left the un- 

 finished work to pursue the tan- 

 talizing butterfly, or search for 

 unsuspecting" caterpillars among the 

 ^ weeds and bushes. 



On a sprig of black alder I 

 found one — the same little fellow 

 as of old, afflicted with the peculi- 

 arities of all his progenitors. We 

 used to call him " Professor Wig- 

 gler," owing to an hereditary ner- 

 vous habit of wiggling his head from side to side when not otherwise 



