,0 



THE YOUNG NATUKALIST. 



that can be used. Besides their color re- 

 sembling snow, their rather irregular flight j 

 exactly resembled the -fall of large flakes of 

 snow. From about two in the afternoon they 

 continued passing on, no diminution of their j 

 enormous numbers being perceptible, for 

 fully three hours. About five o'clock, a 

 thunderstorm broke over the town rather 

 suddenly, accompanied by very heavy rain. 

 This drove them all to the ground, and they j 

 could be seen floating down the channels, or j 

 vainly struggling to raise themselves from j 

 the mud of the streets. Some found shelter j 

 under doorways and the cornices of shops, 

 but the greater number must have perished. 

 When the sky cleared it was too late in the 

 evening for them to resume their flight. I 

 went up to the churchyard, almost the only 

 place where there was any sort of herbage on j 

 which they could rest, and there were hun- j 

 dreds upon hundreds of them, sitting on ' 

 grass stems, tombstones, &c. I brought a 

 few away with me, but they were quite of the 

 usual form. Next day there were a large 

 number of them flying about, but nothing 

 like the swarm of the afternoon before, and 

 they did not seem to have the set Lied line of 

 flight they had the previous day, for they 

 flew vaguely in all directions. 



Where they did come from in such enor- 

 mous numbers, was asked, not by Ento- 

 mologists only, but by everyone who had 

 seen them, and I dare say many thought me 

 very ignorant of my special subject, because 

 I could not explain all about it. I made 

 every possible enquiry, but could arrive at 

 no satisfactory conclusion. From the direc- 

 tion of their flight, it was evident they came 

 to us from the sea, and a fisherman, who was 

 in the bay that afternoon, told me he noticed 

 them some miles off the land in immense 

 swarms, some alighting on the boat, its mast, 

 or cordage, others appearing to settle for a 

 moment on the surface of the ocean, and then 

 rising from it again, for the sea at the time 

 was perfectly smooth. These were travelling 

 in the same direction, and seemed, he said, 



to come either from the open sea, or from the 

 extreme end of the high Yorkshire land, that 

 bounds our view on the opposite side of the 

 bay. Where did they come from ? I can 

 make no suggestion, but I will never forget 

 the mingled feelings of wonder and delight 

 with which I watched that sunny June after- 

 noon, the passing of this enormous swarm of 

 butterflies. 



THE FOUR SEASONS: 



A Story from the Book of Nature. 



By Lucy Fern. 



T'was on a bright sunny morning on the 

 2lst of March, 18 — , well, the particular year 

 is of no consequence, all that we need say is, 

 that on the morning in question might be 

 seen a beautiful young female, and a rather 

 care-worn young man standing at the garden 

 gate of a rustic cottage, far away from the 

 noise and smoke of busy town. Her attire 

 was as graceful and elegant as her features, 

 and his bore indications that each pocket was 

 a library, and his countenance told plainly 

 that health was sacrificed at the shrine of 

 intellect. It was in the country, yes the 

 country, that word which enraptures every 

 true lover of nature with delight; the country, 

 where birds warble their sweetest melodies, 

 and seem filled with- joy and delight, where 

 grasshoppers chirp, and painted butterflies 

 glide on poised wings from flower to flower, 

 where crystal streams leap down the ferny 

 glen from stone to stone, and where you might 

 stretch upon the green sward and listen to 

 the sweet chord of Nature's harmony, bid 

 dull care begone, and feel happy. Yes, it 

 was in such a place where the scene of our 

 story opens. 1 ae little village had not more 

 than a score of houses in it, yet it was a 

 pretty place. The road through it was 

 neither set with gold nor granite, but it was 

 more beautiful than cither, for it was com- 

 posed of fine yellow sand, — sea sand to all 



