matter and fastened usually to the end of the leaf mid rib, but occasionally 

 to the side of the blade. 



A few years ago while wandering along the rocky bottom of a little wood- 

 land brooklet, I noticed some tell-tale pellets of larvel ordure beneath a little 

 butternut tree. I soon located a larva of Citheronia regalis. Other small trees, 

 for none of them had a trunk diameter of six inches, gave other "worms." The 

 weak slender branches forbade climbing other than upward and rather than risk 

 jarring down such great caterpillars, I left the rest for another day. Next day, 

 armed with a small saw and sharp hatchet, I sawed off long limbs and cut down 

 small trees and left the woods laden with spoils, caterpillars of Regalis, Luna 

 and Cressonia juglandis. 



The larvae of Catocalae hide under the loose bark of hickory, in the grooves 

 of walnut and oak bark, under the leaves of climbing plants that lie against the 

 tree trunk, at the bottom of the trunk of the foodplant concealed by the grass, 

 under leaves on the ground or other loose objects. Noticing their means of 

 concealment, led the writer to trap for these caterpillars. Loose wads of paper 

 at the bottoms of the trees, holes made by pushing the finger or stick down, 

 two or three inches, into the ground against the tree trunk and loose double or 

 treble shingles leaned against the tree, make satisfactory snares. In the latter 

 case the caterpillars crawl between the shingles after eating at night, and rest 

 there in the day time. 



ANNOUNCEMENT— SUMMER CLASS. 



During the months of June, July and August, 1914, I will give personal 

 instruction in butterfly farming to a limited class of pupils at Truckee, California. 

 Those interested will write for particulars. (Editor Butterfly Farmer). 



THE COLLECTOR'S WORK. 

 (Editorial, Bulletin Brooklyn Entomological Society.) 

 The collectors of insects in the United States during the past twenty years 

 number high into the tens of thousands. Ninety-five per cent, of them date the 

 beginning of their interest from the admiration of a butterfly, and from this have 

 progressed to the observation of color differences of many butterflies and moths. 

 The primary motive is getting together pretty things. Two-thirds, however, 

 of beginners never progress beyond that stage. Of the few who keep on pass- 

 ing to other insects ninety-five per cent, become interested in the limitless range 

 of color, size and form of the race of beetles. Beyond this not one in a hun- 

 dred proceeds. 



In almost every sizeable town in the land there is at least one person who 

 has pinned and kept some sort of insect collection until neglect or dermestids dispose 

 of it. In the aggregate such collections have been of vast value, for the com- 

 prehensive student can get from each of them a general grasp on the fauna of 

 that particular region, which would otherwise take a season of careful search, 

 and has gotten, also, thousands of additions to the taxonomic catalogue. Heaven 

 bless the patient country collector, even though he (or she) knows little about 

 the subject, especially if he dates and otherwise defines what he has. 



On the other hand, a collector of specimens is not necessarily an observer 

 of nature. It is the rule, not the exception, that the collector of a box of 

 beetles divides them by name, or, more simply, if he cannot get names, by color, 

 and can tell almost nothing about the life cycle, habits or food of a single one. 

 He is no more a scientist than the collector of cancelled revenue stamps, post 



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