THE YOUNG NATUEALIST. 



209 



boulders, in the crannies of which grew oak, beech, bladder, and filmy ferns, 

 while between them were great patches of bilberry, covered with ripe fruit, 

 the haunt of many a ring-ousel, whose cheery note sounded often and loud 

 in the complete solitude as I disturbed him at his feast. On these boulders 

 S. muralis was sitting in some numbers, waiting in an unsophisticated and 

 most xm-Scoparia-like way to be boxed, the white spot on the thorax, close 

 to the abdomen, shewing up very distinctly as they sat. Here, too, T caught 

 a few E. nigrella, the only species of tinea met with that day, with the ex- 

 ception of G. ericetelia, and even this last was not common. Such a meagre 

 result as this might be disappointing to any one who had visited the district 

 only for the purpose of collecting, but though probably not so prolific as 

 some, the land of Scolice/ormis and Askworthii is not to be despised even by 

 such, while to the lover of nature it affords a greater and more delightful 

 variety in a small compass, than any district at home or abroad with which 

 I am acquainted. So I look forward to paying another visit soon to my 

 ancestral wilds, with all the eagerness of a naturalist, doomed to live cooped 

 up in a big town, and anxious to escape to breezy solitudes whenever a chance 

 occurs. 



NATURE IN NOVEMBER. 



By ALBERT H. WATERS, B.A. 



The aspect of nature in November is, generally speaking, far from being a 

 cheerful one. Certainly there is one thing to be said in favour of our English 

 climate, and that is that at no time of the year does natural history work 

 become quite an impossibility. There are always observations to be made, 

 no matter what the season. There is life, and life even in many forms to be 

 watched and annotated upon even in the most ungenial periods of the year. 

 Yet November is certainly a depressing month to the naturalist. There is 

 not much to observe in the damp and sodden woods, where the fog hangs 

 about among the dank trees and withered undergrowth. You may, if you 

 feel so disposed, turn over logs of wood, and pull the bark off fallen trees, 

 and perhaps a few of the smaller shells will reward your exertions, but the 

 Pupa clausilia, &c, you may happen to find you might easily have obtained 

 a month and more ago, and with less risk of bronchitis and rheumatism. 



There may be days in the early part of the month which remind us of 

 October, and on one of these days there will in all probability be many things 

 to be observed by the naturalist as he takes a country walk. We will imagine 

 ourselves setting out for a ramble on a November afternoon, not indeed on 



