108 

say, and you will see an involuntary raising of 
the right hand to the chin. Just mention the 
name of “ Ksulz,”’ and the poor chin is grasped 
by the right hand, in a most unceremonious 
manner. The eyes sparkle with delight—‘ Ya, 
ya, das ist Seltenes. Das ist was—was.” Show 
him a butterfly, whose name he does not instantly 
recollect, and out of his capacious side pocket 
comes a most compendious catalogue, interpaged 
and interlined so thickly and so closely, you 
wonder how he will discover what he wants. 
He next produces a large pair of round spectacles, 
in an old-fashioned steel frame, and the catalogue 
expanded in the left hand. He moistens the 
thumb and finger of the right hand, and hastily 
turning over a page or two, says, rather slowly, 
and in a subdued tone of voice, ‘‘ Da sollte es 
unfehlbar seyn,” next to so-and-so, and he always 
manages to let his finger fall mechanically upon 
the name of the insect. 
I cannot here resist giving you a short des- 
cription of his singular costume. He wore an 
ample pair of dark-brown pantaloons; his shoes 
were very strong and large, and particularly 
square-toed. Hither of them would have contained, 
easily, both the feet of the largest man I ever saw. 
He also wore a singular square-cut greenish olive 
waistcoat, very loose to his person, and an im. 
mense large coat of the same color and material ; 
a black cravat, and a curious large cloth cap, with 
broad leather front to shade the eyes. He was, 
however, a man full of intelligence, and a very 
great observer. Nothing escaped his keen eye. 
He was not so polished as the “‘ Vieux Silene,” but 
he was indeed a most wonderful character ; liberal, 
kind-hearted, and communicative. Every word 
he spoke, every look he gave, conveyed a meaning. 
Moreover, he took a great fancy to my old master, 
who profited greatly by his entomological know- 
ledge and experience, and many, many a most 
valuable specimen in his collection does he owe to 
this great man’s kindly feeling towards him. 
Never did this king of entomologists come 
within reach of old Bombyx’s habitation but he 
spent part of the day, at least, with him—and 
with the “ Vieux Siléne,” of course; and he 
seldom came without bringing some specimens of 
rarest value. Should he ever come into this 
country, my dear Mr. Editor, yow shall be intro- 
duced to him [thank you dear Fino]; but I 
doubt his now so doing. He has often been as 
far as Paris, but never was tempted to visit 
London. Possibly he feared the over-kindness of 
the great Scotch entomologist would quite over- 
power him. He isso very kind to poor “ strolling 
dabblers !” 
Singularly clad as this curious individual was 
—it was from no lack of means; another proof of 
the folly of judging of the characters of people by 
external appearances! He was a man of very 
considerable property, but who enjoyed his own 
peculiar fancies in all honest simplicity. At the 
same time, he felt deeply any slight to himself, 
on account of his odd dress, and somewhat uncouth 
manners. When any body superciliously sneered 
at his odd ways, and at the same time presumed 
to seek for any information, he would plainly tell 
them—“ Yetzt konnen sie schwarzes brod fressen.”’ 
He was uncommonly full of quaint drollery, and 
could take and give a joke as well as any man. 


KIDD’S OWN JOURNAL. 

To speak of his entomological researches, his 
entomological labors, his entomological mind, 
altogether—is more than I can attempt to do. I 
must refer you for that to my old master. ‘The 
many splendid insects actually discovered, or again 
brought to light, after having been lost sight of 
during a very long period of time, by the exertions 
of this indefatigable entomologist, is perfectly 
astonishing. Would that a few more entomolo- 
gists would imitate his great perseverance, and 
his simple simplicity! What a lesson of humility 
would half-an-hour’s communication with this 
great man impress upon the minds of some ento- 
mologists! They certainly would not leave him 
without feeling their great inferiority. They 
would be equally charmed, too, with his unaffected 
kindness. 
What an universal pass kindness is, Mr. Editor, 
How quickly we dogs can perceive who is kind 
and who is not! This great man, Mr. Editor, is 
very regular in his hours and habits. He rises 
with or before the sun, generally speaking. Oc- 
casionally he takes no rest at all. The midnight 
hour—one, two, three—nay every hour may every 
now and then find him at his beautiful study. 
His breakfast is very simple, consisting of a cup 
of coffee and a little brown bread and butter. He 
dines very frugally, at one o’clock. His great 
enjoyment appears to be his supper (which, at 
home, is always early), especially in winter, when 
he is surrounded by his family, and, may be, a 
friend or two, and enlivened by his ‘‘ Schoppchen”’ 
of old wine and a crackling fire. He discourses. 
most naively on any occurrences that have hap- 
pened to him during his different travels; or 
perhaps, in his own most peculiar expressive 
manner, will describe the particular ways and 
habits of some insect upon which he may have 
been questioned. 
I scarcely think, Mr. Editor, there is any great 
entomologist, now living, who does not benefit, 
more or less, directly or indirectly, by the great 
labors of this individual. Such however are 
his modesty and simplicity, that he does not like 
his name to be introduced anywhere. 
By the way, I had almost forgotten to tell you 
that he is very fond of his “ prise de tabac.” He 
takes this from a most capacious tabatiére, which, 
doubtless has been his companion for many a loug 
year. He used generally to visit Bombyx, either 
about Easter, or at the fall of the autumn, and 
singularly rare indeed were the insects he would 
at such seasons leave behind him! 
By the way, it is worthy of note, that when 
this wonderful man first left his native city, in a 
sad state of health, he cared little about a butter- 
fly; and probably the first time he saw one, he 
rather avoided chasing it than otherwise, until, 
in time, his attention was arrested, his curiosity 
excited, and his thirst for more perfect entomo- 
logical knowledge became absolutely insatiable. 
Even now, when he is an old man, he works at 
his favorite pursuit (which at times is very 
fatiguing) with all that zeal which so peculiarly 
distinguishes him, and long may he live to enjoy 
the proud distinction of being the greatest living 
entomologist ! 
Adieu, my own very dear friend. Aw revoir. 
Tottenham, Aug. 18. Fino. 
P.S.—I see that you advise me not to go to 
