384 THE ZOOLOGIST. “ 
covered with gauze, which was daily filled with fresh flowers 
from the garden dusted over with sugar, and then, during the 
term of her brief life, when the sun shone out enjoyably, she 
wandered to and fro, and maintained an almost ceaseless bag- 
pipe dirl, accompanied, and perhaps produced, by the three last 
ventrally shagreened segments of the body, that moved like a 
cornet-a-piston telescopically in and out, while the wings lay 
folded on the back, and, seen with a magnifying-glass, showed 
no indication of movement. Another small Crabro with green 
side bands I found at the same time Mr. Edward Saunders 
determined as lituratus, a species scattered over the central and 
southern counties, and tolerably plentiful at Bury St. Hdmunds; 
it made no sound. Conjointly, I got word from Kew that a 
yellow thistle I picked, as svggested by my memoranda, at 
Sandwich, or failing at Stroud, near Canterbury, in September, 
1870, when the Franco-German war caused excitement, was 
Cathemus lanatus, recorded in Dunn’s ‘Alien Flora of Britain,’ 
p- 107, and said to be at home on waste places in Palestine. On 
the 21st of September of the same year I captured a newly 
disclosed male and female of the scarce Thorn Moth (Hunomos 
alniaria) at evening on a street-lamp post at Deal, which, in the 
days of Frederick Smith, was the happy hunting-ground of the 
entomologist. Strange instruments compose a brass band, but 
to imagine that the Sand Wasps are trumpets on beholding 
their slender forms is difficult. I have a note regarding a 
hymenopteron—I cannot think what —that when picked up by 
the wings near London smelt of garlic and the stew-pan, and 
continued to utter a noise from its spiracles, which became 
louder when the wings were allowed to vibrate; placed to the 
ear the sound was shrill, and the vibration of the thoracic 
muscles was palpable. Sceliphron spirifex, which looks as if its 
black hind body had been stuck on with a straw, I heard making 
a piping noise in the early autumn at Turin, while it busied 
itself collecting mud in a puddle, much as a cat hums like a 
church-organ when blest with a kitten, and at the same time its 
wings seemed to be in repose. Sometimes two or more were to 
be seen thus occupied. I next met with this lugubrious creature 
on the 28rd of July, 1896, in the town drain or gutter known as the 
Brook Kedron, whose history is that of the Fleet Ditch. Goureau 
